Lady without Pity
by babyvfan
Summary: There's a creature roaming in the forest in the night, a lady so beautiful and fair men are unable to resist her beauty and charm, finding themselves slaves to her misery. Helia remembers hearing the legends about her, but never believed he could be victm
1. Chapter 1

Perhaps I was a fool in the beginning to believe there could actually be someone out there for me, someone to claim as mine and someone destined to be with me. Perhaps I was a fool to go into the woods that one night alone in the dark forest. Perhaps I was an even bigger fool not to believe the legends my grandfather use to tell me and my brother, Arthur, when we were little, legends he claimed has been told in our family for generations.

My grandfather was long dead, but the last memory I had of him was still fresh like it was yesterday. The worst snowstorm ever to hit the city really hit it hard, swirls of heavy snow so thick you could barely see, snow falling so heavily in nearly endless streams it was almost like someone was tossing gigantic pillows of white snow from the sky, and layers and layers or pure white snow covering the ground, the trees, and buildings, making everything look like it was a winter wonderland. The snow was so horrible; we were all caved inside the house.

My father was sitting in his favorite chair, reading his newspaper while mother was in the kitchen preparing dinner. There was nothing left for Arthur and I do to anything else, so we sat on Grandfather's lap. He took a moment to finish smoking his much-needed pipe, let out a stream of smoke we were careful not to breathe in, and then he looked at us with a certain gleam in his eye he always had whenever he told us his stories and told us one of his favorites, which was also mine.

The story of the Spirit woman, a beautiful woman who was as beautiful as an angel and had the certain charm of a siren temptress, who lives in the great Forest beyond our backyard waiting for a young man foolish enough to come to the deepest part of the Forest and even more foolish enough not to ran the other direction when she made her apperance. The Spirit was a mystical creature of the Mother Earth, a fairy my grandfather claims, able to bend nature at her will, and was very powerful with her magic. Her beauty could immediately make a man's eyes widen in shock from her mind-blowing loveliness, could easily freeze heart in a heartbeat moment, she could easily trap her prey with one look in her eyes and a sweet smile spreading across her face, and the man would be hers for the taking-and possibly keeping if she found the man under her spell amusing enough to keep around for more than a little while.

She wasn't an actually siren that sings to men, leading them to their cold deaths. Instead, love was something she would steal from them, making them fall absolutely in love with her, then leaving without a trace and making their hearts bleed for her, striking them with a powerful spell of lovesick and their hearts desiring nothing else but her and seeing her again.

My grandfather told us he thankfully never had the chance or the guts to go into the deep area of forest, but unfortunately his elder brother who was three years his senior, Damon, wasn't so lucky. My grandfather would sometimes get misty-eye as he looks at me and think about his elder brother. I've seen enough pictures to know how much our resemblances are so exact: same tall and lean frame, long midnight blue hair we preferred to tie in a loose ponytail, rather pale than fair skin, such intensity in our aqua eyes, and average-looking faces that wasn't unattractive yet overly handsome.

According to my grandfather, one winter night much like this one we were experiencing when he was fifteen and Damon was eighteen they were suppose to bring in the firewood for their fire that was running low fast. My grandfather was stricken with a cold, but still braved the cold while he and his brother went down the woods to get the biggest chunks of firewood. Grandfather went to the east while Uncle Damon went to the west, foolishly thinking splitting apart would be a much better way for them to get more firewood. Because Grandfather was a bit younger and was too busy thinking about getting home so quickly, he thought of nothing else.

Suddenly, as he was adding more wood to the pile he already collect, he heard a scream he recognized was Damon's. Quickly forgetting about the wood, Grandfather ran to the Westside to assist his brother, getting more fearful the louder the screams would become. The snow was too much, too thick and cold, Grandfather's running slowed down to a walk, his walk slowed down to baby steps, and those baby steps ended with him dropping to his knees and unable to move anymore.

All he could do was hang his head down in shame, having no other choice but to listen to his brother screaming at the top of his lungs for help.

After the screaming went on for nearly forever, soon they were replaced by the most beautiful yet purest sound Grandfather swore was unlike any sound he ever heard before. Singing that was as clear as the calmest wind, low yet soothing like a whisper promising nothing but goodness and protection from anything wrong, delivered with such power Grandfather still to that very day was shaken and nearly hypnotized by remembrance of the sound.

Once Grandfather was able to find enough strength to get back to the house, he immediately told his parents what happened to Damon. He and his father spent hours, nearly endless days, searching and searching for Damon but found no trace of him. Finally, after nearly hundreds of days of endless searching, Damon finally returned late at night, coming to Grandfather's bedroom window on another horrible blizzard day, but looking much worse than the last time. He looked so much skinny than he was before, looking like he hasn't had anything to eat for days, his clothes nearly torn and dirty, his hair a bundle of mess, but the most disturbing feature that scared Grandfather was the look in Damon's eyes.

In Damon's eyes, Grandfather always said there was usually such seriousness and intensity, a glare full of maturity and wisdom belonging to someone wise beyond his years. That look was long gone, replaced with insane belonging to a man who was mad but darkened with the desire of lustful love. My grand uncle spoke of what happened to him, speaking all about this mysterious woman who appeared out of nowhere from the trees, dressed in light shades of pink and white and had actually delicate wings sprouting from her back. She was the most beautiful creature he ever seen before in his entire life, her beauty and loveliness could easily be mistaken for an angel and walked slowly to him, holding a beautiful fully-blossom pink rose, a delicate smile spreading across her face as she sang her heart out to him.

Grandfather said after seeing his brother that one night, the next morning Damon was long gone as well as the song haunting him as he slept that night, still featuring its' pure beauty but had an undertone he noticed for the first time: bone-chilling and intensly dark. Damon came to see him briefly every once in awhile, always looking so crazed with love, talking about nothing else but that beautiful mistress of the forest. The third time Damon came over was the last time Grandfather ever saw his brother again.

Grandfather always told us it seemed his brother was madly in love with this mistress of the forest, but he always suspected she used enchantment on Damon to get his love and leave him alone with a broken heart that still desire her and only her.

I noticed, even as a small child, when Grandfather was done telling Arthur and I the story about the Spirit woman he would always stare at me for the longest time, his eyes asking me a question I couldn't understand nor had the answer to. I always had the slightest suspicion, thanks to my resemblance to his brother who was an unfortunate victim to the manipulative temptress; he feared I would be the next victim to the mysterious woman of the forest.

Ordinary if this was any other time, I would roll my eyes while thinking he was being just crazy. Only now I couldn't.

Because what he feared came true.


	2. Chapter 2

I was only twelve years old when Grandfather died suddenly from a massive heart attack while he was sleeping. His death was not only devastating to us, but also to nearly everyone in the whole town since nearly everyone knew him and loved him dearly as much we did. Grandfather could be a very strange man sometimes when he had his moments but also was a very kind man, who can easily be friends with anyone.

Nearly everyone in town, from Grandfather's closet friend he knew for more than twenty years to the mailman and butcher, arrived for his funeral. So many people came in sympathy for my family, telling us how great of a friend Grandfather was to them and how much of a shame his death was to them, bringing us endless dishes of food, and trying to get us through the horrible time.

As I went to bed that night of the funeral, welcoming my younger brother as he climbed out his bed and onto mine, I thought back to the final words Grandfather said to me before his death.

The final words he spoken after telling us the legend of the Spirit Woman.

"_Promise me, my boy, you and your brother will never leave each other's side. Promise me, Helia, you will never go into the deep part of the Forest by yourself_," grandfather had told me. "_I refuse to lose you like I lost my brother. Promise me?_"

There was such intense firmness in his eyes that harden with a certain fire, but featured a sheer of madness beneath the look. The glare startled me with its intenseness, so I nodded in order to make the intense firm madness to disappear from his eyes.

Even though I nodded my head, there was a fire of anger burning inside of me by his words that set off my anger and made my body nearly tremble. _How dare he think I would be as stupid as my granduncle_, I thought with anger, wanting right then and there to lash out at him with harsh words. He seemed to think just because I looked just like Damon, I would be as stupid and make the same mistakes: foolishly going into the deep area of the forest, falling for the charms of the temptress of the Forest, and becoming the new prey to her.

Five years have passed since Grandfather's death, and we were slowly moving on with our lives. It was the only thing one can do after tragic happen, moving forward instead of back. I was now seventeen years old, close to being eighteen, and took the role of the second man of the house, taking on twice as the responsibility than Arthur, the youngest one, had.

Despite the fact Grandfather was no longer with us, not much has really changed in the Gabriel household. My mother thought at first it would be better if we moved to a new house. Our house was a beautiful cottage house in the middle of the forest, a river with a calming stream near the left side, and an old games and a tire swing tied to an oak branch in the backyard where Arthur and I spent hours playing together when we were little. Being only a one story house, there wasn't much room inside but there was plenty of cozy warmth and family love to go around. We had a small living room with a complete furniture set, coffee table, and fire place; a small kitchen and dining area where we have our meals; a clean bathroom right down the hall; and three bedrooms-one for mother and father, another that was shared between Arthur and I, and the last one was Grandfather's being redone into a guestroom.

Mother's intentions were good and selfless, but Father insisted we stayed here. The house was made by distinct relatives over hundred of years ago who wanted go away from the town life and have quietness around them, and generations and generations of our family have lived in this very house ever since.

The town we lived in, or rather-considering we lived in the forest-nearby was called Ivy Gomes, a quite little town with its' own charm. Less than two thousand families lived here, and had everything a town would need with a school that goes from preschool to middle school and a large high school a few blocks away, a large library filled with a nearly endless supply of books, and lots of shops and stores were you're bound to find whatever you need.

We also had dozens of different cafes and restaurants, but my favorite one to go to was Helen's, a café that was a cross between a coffee shop and a bakery, very quiet and played a selection of relaxing music to really bring in the calming mood, and was famous for its' white hot chocolate and mouthwatering pumpkin pie. I was sitting at a booth table, nodding thanks to the blonde-haired waitress who brought my tea and slice pumpkin pie.

Ignoring my surroundings, I retrieved my journal, which was both my journal and sketchbook, and turned the book to a fresh page, letting everything unimportant go as soon as I grabbed my pencil and began to draw.

I inherited the artistic gene from my father who got it from my father, who was Grandfather. Although my father was a good artist, he chose to show more interest in fencing and swordsmanship than drawings. Grandfather, on the other hand, never lose sight away from his passion, and was always one to embrace it. Often memories of my grandfather, when he wasn't the old storyteller with tales to share, would be up in room for hours and doing nothing else but draw, often times looking back like he sensed a presence and would smile as he saw me watching him. If he wasn't drawing, then he was painting. If he wasn't painting, then he was sculpting. No matter what form of art he would do, he would always make it an absolute masterpiece. Because he saw how much art interested me, he decided to be my mentor, teaching me everything there was to know about art, looking impressed as he examined my work, and saying he wouldn't be surprised if I made an amazing career out of it.

Of course I would never take him of his word, but I've been in love with art ever since. Art was one of the main importances in my life, besides my family and friends, and I had no intention of ever changing that. I loved creating works of art with my bare hands, loved watching a blank piece of paper slowly transform from blankness to creation, and especially loved the feeling of myself letting go when I dove into a new project.

The picture I was drawing was an inspiration I got from a dream I had recently. When I was done, I studied my picture and nearly went through a roller coaster of emotions whenever I saw her face.

"Her" was the girl of my dreams; the one I tried hard to draw on the paper but knew my copy could never be amazing as the real thing. Very beautiful indeed with her delicate, breathtaking face, her slender and curvy figure being hugged by her plain white dress, beautiful eyes with such innocence and warm gentleness, a small yet soft smile blossoming on her beautiful lips, and long hair cascading down her back with some strands flowing like they were caught by the wind.

Never had I seen this girl before, but I haven't been able to get her out of my mind. Never had I experienced these strange feelings I was feeling rising inside me whenever I looked at her face and thought about her. My heart would suddenly race by the thought of her, stomach would be tied in hundreds of different knots, and my body would turn from hot to cold and then hot again.

Slowly I closed my eyes and envisioned the dream that came to mind a few nights ago. I was wandering around in the forest late at night, unable to see my way through anything because it was so dark and there were too many trees surrounding me, and wandering aimlessly for what felt like hours-till she suddenly appeared.

Out of the blue, suddenly appearing from the trees was a maiden who was the very incarnation of beauty. One small, sweet smile from her made me frozen in place, unable to think or what to do or say next. And as she slowly lifted up her hand and beckoned me to go wither, those strange feelings came to life and were burning like fire inside of me.

I knew right then and there how much I wanted to be with her, kiss her angelic lips and hold her, love her and wanted to be with her forever.

"Helia!" My beautiful maiden was gone from my eyes and my dream came tumbling down, quickly snapping me back into reality. Ironically this was the exact same way my dream ended, only this time instead of my brother it was a dear friend who always know how to make such fashionably late appearances.

"I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something important?" Timmy tried to look innocent, but I saw the look of smugness in his eyes.

"I hate you." I said simply.

"So I was interrupting something important?" He sat across from me, slides my plate of pie toward him, and started eating it without even bothering to ask me if I still wanted it.

"Correction. I _really_ hate you," I told him. "Nice of you to finally show up-two hours late."

Timmy grinned as he ate more of my pie.

Timmy was your average, every day too skinny to be broad yet too average to be considered scrawny either, had dark amber eyes and would be wandering around aimlessly as blind as a bat if he wasn't wearing his glasses, and orangish light-brown hair. He and I have been best friends since we were seven years old, but were as different as two people could be. While I was in love with art and very fond of poetry, Timmy was really the brains of the group who'd preferred science and computers over anything else. Although I would rather be alone most of the time, I was a bit out-going and able to make friends while Timmy was a bit shy and awkward around other people.

Our friendship really showed opposites really do attract.

"So, where have you been?" I thanked the kind waitress again when she saw Timmy stole my plate and brought me another slice of pie, setting it down in front of me, and then quickly started eating before Timmy could steal it from me. "You said you wanted to meet me here by here and you got here at twelve, two hours late."

"I was busy." He said, as if that alone was acceptable enough to be an explanation.

"With what?"

He shrugged. "Doing late minute chores, going to the library and borrowing some books," A faint shade of red colored his cheeks as he was suddenly sheepish, looking down at his nearly empty plate of pie and mumbling the last part of the sentence.

He mumbled the last of the sentence so quietly; I had to lean in closer. But even when I did that, I still couldn't hear him.

"Say again," He tried speaking a bit louder, but it was still quiet and I still couldn't hear him. "A bit louder please."

"HANGING OUT WITH TECNA!" More than several nearly tables and waitresses going around the place stopped when they heard Timmy's outburst, turning around to see me holding me in laughter while Timmy looked like he was a second away from murdering me.

"Nothing to see here. Move along." He waited till everything went back to normal before he turned his head to give me a chilled glare.

Looking into those cold eyes, I wasn't able to hold in my laughter anymore so I threw my head back and laughed hard. "Well that certainly explains the fact why you're blushing."

Right on cue his blush brightened, cheeks flamed so hot I could feel them, and his entire face looked as bright as a tomato. "Ha, ha, ha," he tried to be sarcastic, but there was still breathless anxious heard in his tone, rolling his eyes at me as I continued to laugh. "You're a real comedian."

I took in a deep breath after letting out my last chuckle, finally gaining control of myself. "What did you and your massive crush-"

"She's only a _friend_!" Timmy insisted, but I knew better.

"You had on since middle school did together in the library?" I asked.

He shrugged again, trying to act cool and casual about the meeting like it was nothing as he used his fork to play with the crumbs left over on his plate, but I knew well enough he was shocked and in disbelief. "I was looking for a new book, she was researching some things on the computer, and we bumped into each other and hanged out."

"Uh-huh," I commented. "Did you finally ask her out?"

"Of course not!" He exclaimed, shocked by the question. "Have you gone insane?"

"You're the one insane," I told him, choosing to ignore the irritated way he rolled his eyes at me. "You were at the library for an hour with a girl you've been crushing on since middle school. How can you not ask her out?"

"Because I can't."

"Why not?"

He continued to play with his fork and plate, as if he hadn't heard me at first. After awhile of him playing with his fork and me watching him, he sighed and admitted, "Because…"

"Because why?" I demanded.

"She would never go for a guy like me." He mumbled.

This time I was the one who was rolling his eyes, thinking my good friend was acting like a good fool right now.

Timmy may be awkward around other people and doesn't always know the right thing to say, but I've seen how he was with Tecna. Whenever he was with her, he seemed like a different person who was the opposite of shy, always smiling whenever she would turn his way, they would chuckle at each other's jokes, and he would always seem so calm and relaxed.

Conversation between them was always so easy and natural, because they had many things in common. Like Timmy, Tecna was obsessed with science and computers, the right person to go to when seeking information on the newest gadgets practically lived in the library and read more books in a whole week than I can finish in a entire month. She was also awkward around people, but unlike Timmy who shies himself away she was too serious for her own good.

Aside from being a sharp brain, she was also quite the looker with her very attractive face, short hair colored a shade that was a cross between light purple and hot pink, teal bluish-green eyes bright with intelligent, and a very good figure.

"Timmy, I can tell Tecna really likes you. You like her back, so stop worrying and ask he out already." I said.

"No offense, Helia, but I hardly think you would be the right person talking about romance when you don't have any crushes on your won." Timmy said.

Now that was something I couldn't agree with. He knew me too well enough to know I really don't date. Some girls have asked me out before, but even though I was flattered I still turned them down because half were girls I've friends with at school while the other half really weren't my type. True was I really don't date, because I was waiting for the perfect girl to come along. The perfect girl would be my dream girl, someone who was easy to talk to and shared my hobbies, was as lovely on the inside as she was beautiful, and was the right girl for me.

"Your dream girl doesn't count." Timmy said, as if he was able to get into my head and see what I was thinking.

"She's out there somewhere, Timmy. I know she is." I said, though I already knew he would think my heads was in the clouds again.

Timmy shook his head while rolling his eyes, then his eyes lowered down on my open sketchbook and looked at my new sketch of my dream girl. He shook his head again, this time doing a satisfied smile. "The only place where your dream girl seems to exist is in your sketchbook."

Ignoring him, I looked down at the picture of the beautiful, smiling girl, sighing as I brushed my fingers against her cheek while envisioning how soft and velvet-like the skin would be. Maybe my head was in the clouds for thinking there was someone for me, just taking time to reveal herself, but I was bit of romantic and knew somewhere, out there, was the girl for me, probably thinking about me, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks had passed since then. I was still envisioning about the girl whose face still haunted my dreams, drawing more sketches and writing more poetry about her, and Timmy was still too much of a coward to ask Tecna out. Those two weeks were the last the week of autumn we spend wisely, dreading the arrival of winter.

Winter was the most despicable season in Ivy Gomes, because the weather was incredibly cold as the season was incredibly brutal with the freezing temperature dropping from two degrees to negative thirty Celsius, so much snow over ten feet tall blocking the roads and cutting off power, and each winter seemed to promise more snow and cold. Best way to survive winter was going on a short vacation and moving to a much-warmer place, but if that couldn't be done-like it couldn't be done in my family-the needed supplies were warm clothing and extra-thick blankets, tons of food long enough to last through winter, and plenty of firewood if you had a fireplace instead of a heating system like we did.

The firs heavy snowstorm started three nights while we were gathered in the living room. Arthur curling up in front of the fire with a historical novel in his hands, mother was knitting sweaters for us for the horrible winter ahead while I was sitting next to her on the couch, working on a new sketch in my book. All of us were occupied with something expect Father, who was standing in front of the window and frowning at the sight of heavy snow falling onto the ground, already rising up the three feet.

I quickly looked up from my book and took a quick glance at the weather outside. Watching more and more snow fall from the sky reminded me of the horrible blizzard we had when Grandfather was still alive, not minding them at all and able to take our minds off the weather by telling us stories. The image of Grandfather sitting in his favorite chair, dressed in his old-fashion trousers with suspenders, stroking his long gray beard while smoking on his pipe, smiling at me like he knew what was going through my mind was so clear I nearly held my breath when saw him sitting on his chair and smoking his pipe.

I shook my head again, disappointment washing over me like tidal waves as the image faded away. Grandfather was long dead, and this was going to be another winter we were going to have to pull through without him.

"I heard this winter is going to be fierce." Father said.

"Worst one we ever had by far." Mother replied.

Arthur and I shared a look. Winter in my family had very different definitions for us, other than the holidays. For Mother, it meant she was going to have to do twice as much as shopping, buying tons of food to last for the next two to three months and making twice as much meals for us. For Father, it meant trying to make sure the house was stable enough to survive another fierce winter. As for it, it meant another winter being Father's extra labor, trying to pull our weight by helping him shoveling out the snow, chopping more wood for the fireplace, and shoveling the roof clean of snow.

We were already shivering from the thought of working on those chilling days and the exhaustion from doing such work.

"Remember when we were little and Grandfather was still alive," Arthur asked, his eyes already turning dazed as he recalled the moment. "Whenever the blizzard really hit hard, he would sit in his favorite chair-"

"Smoke his up needed pipe and tell us stories." I finished, and we shared a chuckle from the memory.

A hard, brittle grunt from Father silenced us, and Mother was quick to give us a warning look not to talk anymore about the subject. Talking about Grandfather has always been a hard, touché subject to play about here in home, especially when Father was around or close enough to listen. Our father was a very private man who didn't like to talk to much about himself, including talking about his childhood and teenage years with his family, but we learned enough about him from Mother, who was one the few people Father was allowed to be into his privacy. We learned when Father was only seven years old, his mother decided she was through with family life and left Grandfather alone to raised their only child. Instead of worrying about it or letting the pressure of single parenthood get to his head, Grandfather embraced being an only parent and raised Father well, a always praising him and being there for Father when he was going from childhood to early adult stages, and that resulted in a close bond between the two.

"I heard this winter is going to be fierce." Father said mindlessly, causing us all to stare at him while he seemed oblivious to the fact he was repeating himself.

"Yes dear." Mother replied, her brow ceasing in confusion.

"You already said that." It was only then did I notice the changes in him, wondering how I could have missed it. His pale skin already paler than usual and sick-looking, showing the blue veins underneath his skin, beads of sweat were dripping onto his forehead despite the lukewarm temperature of the living room, and his body usually strong body losing its' firmness, being replaced with uneasy weakness.

"Don't sass me, boy!" He snapped. "Go into the kitchen and help your mother set the table for dinner. It's your turn to help her, remember?"

"I did." I murmured so quietly I was sure no one else could hear me.

"We just ate." Arthur weakly added.

Slowly becoming fearful and worried, Mother put down her almost-finished sweater and needles, got up from the couch, and took small, baby steps toward her husband. "Antonio, are you okay?"

The dark scowl hardening his face when he spoke a few moments ago slowly faded into a look of complete, blank confusion as he looked deeply into our eyes and saw the feared concern for him. He tried to walk toward to mother, his mouth opening wide to release a sound, but before he could say a word or lift his foot forward he lose balance and collapsed onto the ground.

"Antonio!" Mother cried.

I quickly got down on my knees when I went over to my father, collecting his collapsed body in my arms and supported his limp head on my shoulder. My hand quickly flew to his forehead to feel his temperature and I immediately flinched, my hand nearly burning from the hotness of his rough skin, which was as hot as a stove. "He has a very high fever."

"Arthur, quickly call the doctor!" Before Mother could even finish the sentence, Arthur was running to the phone and calling our doctor.

Mother and I pressed cold wash clothes against Father's burning forehead, trying to cool down the temperature, until Doctor Aldo finally arrived. Unlike most doctors in the city, he was actually one who made expectations to house calls when it was a real emergency and the patient wasn't able to get to the hospital. The doctor was a bit on the plump side, but his tall height made up for it, a heedful of black thick hair that matched his stubby goatee, and dark eyes hidden behind horn-rimmed glasses. He came two hours later and, after feeding my Father medicine when he woke up for awhile and using a thermometer to check his temperature, he concluded Father was suffering from a very serious case of pneumonia with a high temperature of one hundred and five degrees.

He supplied us with enough pills and cough syrupy he believed could last Father through the week, but warned us pills alone weren't going to immediately make the disease go away from it. He would have gone to the hospital to have much better treatment, but because the hospital was already filled with more sick patients he was going have be taken of by us.

The following morning, Father was somehow in a much worse condition with his temperature at a rapidly high fever, despite the three spoonful of cough syrupy Mother spooned-feed him. With Father ill it was much harder to support the house through the harsh winter, blizzards hitting ten times harder than the last time, and the pressure was slowly making Mother go insane, trying to care for us and mend Father's illness. Soon, after Father was stricken by the terrible disease, Mother was caught by the bug and was sent to bed, sick, leaving only Arthur and I to try mending the house while caring for two sick parents.

I was cursing every swore word I knew while tossing in the last bit of firewood we had left into the paper, using the last scrap of newspaper to really set the fire burning, seeing what little effect my attempts were doing. I turned around as I heard footsteps behind me, seeing Arthur coming out from my parents' room, silencing the sound of harsh wheezing and coughs by softly closing the door behind me, and carrying an empty bottle of the last cough syrup. "Any progress?"

He shook his head, and I bit my lip in order to stop myself from loudly cursing out. "How's the fire?"

I simply nodded my head toward the fire, knowing how small and weak the flames were becoming even as I poked it around with the poker, trying to make it strong. "It's close to dying out."

"Well, then we can just use more wood…" His voice trailed off as I nodded my head toward the small basket where we usually kept the extra wood, watching his eyes widen in shock as he saw there was nothing else in the basket except burnt bits of ashes. Frustrated, he slammed his heel of his hand hard against his forehead, dropping his head down low before shaking it slowly from side to side.

"Please tell me this is some kind of sick, cruel joke?" Arthur said, speaking more to himself than me. "First our parents are sick, the cough medicine is gone, and we're now out of firewood."

I nodded in agreement this winter was slowly turning into the worst winter yet. Mother and Father were sick in bed, barely able to move at all, the medicine was all gone and food was quickly running low, and we were out of firewood. One of us could easily go into town to get more food and stopped by the pharmacy, but the snow was really taking on a hard toll, already piling up to eight feet deep and quickly getting higher, blocking all the roads and knocking off the power the fourth time in a row. Going into town was definitely out, but as for getting more wood…

My eyes stared out the window, watching more snow falling in a rapid pace from the sky and looked at the trees, their barks strong and practically mocking me, more wood supplies just waiting to be chopped.

Arthur's eyes followed my gaze, which immediately widened when he put the pieces together and was able to figure out what was going through my head, and was already blocking the door before I could even react. "No, no, no, no, no!" He exclaimed. "To the great, suffering pit of hell to the no!"

I rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness my brother was displaying in his irritating, overly-dramatic act, resisting the urge to argue about the point since time was something we couldn't waste. "Arthur-"

"Don't you Arthur me, buster!" He cut off, sounding so much like Father. "Have you gone insane? Have you lose every sense in your body, including your mind? You know we can't go into the forest without Father supervising us."

I grunted at the thought me of, a seventeen nearly eighteen years old boy, still needing his father to watch him while he was chopping down wood. "But we have a good excuse this time. Mother and Father need to house to be warm enough in order for illness to slowly go away."

"Forget it!" Stubborn as a mule, Arthur refused to see my reason with a curt shook of his head, arms folding against his chest. "You know as well as I do why the forest is forbidden to go into. The legend of the Spirit living somewhere in there, waiting for someone foolish to go into the deepest part of the Forest and become new prey to her."

"I know, I know," I said. "I know what happened with Grandfather and his own brother. Only things are going to be different."

"How so?"

"One brother, who has many experiences with chopping wood, will go into the forest while the other brother would stay here and mend the house.

Quickly figuring out the rest of the problem, Arthur shook head in refusal again, reminding me what had happened to Damon that one night, which completely changed him forever, and setting out my anger because lately it seemed I was always being compared to Damon just because of my resemblance to him. I pointed out if we didn't have more heat, there would be no fire, which meant no heat and that meant it would take longer for our parents to feel better. After arguing about issue back and forth, killing a good twenty minutes, I was finally able to convince Arthur to see it my way.

But knowing my brother too well, there was a set of restrictions and requirements he wanted me to follow, repeating them over them again and actually forcing me to repeat them myself: getting as much wood as I can carry and not bringing anything more than a armful, staying close to the house even when I stepped into the forest, only staying out there for a full hour and not another minute more, and-the top rule he repeated more than several times and forced me to repeat just as many times-absolutely no going into the dark, deep section of the forest by any means necessary.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," I ignored his complains as I went into my room and got changed, feeling his hard eyes boring chilled glared behind me but I refused to look back at him. "You know as I was why the forest is dangerous. The Spirit Woman whose spirit roams through the trees, wanting for a new suitor to fall in love with her and steal their hearts."

"You also know as well as I do sometimes Grandfather can bend the truth from time to time," I said. "For one, he only knows she's apparently a very beautiful girl but can't describe how she looks like exactly since he never saw her before."

"Maybe he hasn't, but Granduncle Damon did and he lost his heart to her," Arthur said. "You're my brother and I care about you, alright. I don't want to see anything bad happening."

I stopped changing for a moment, turning back to my concerned brother and smiling a small, assuring smile. Arthur was only two years younger than me, but was almost mature as I was and tall enough to reach my shoulder. Someone would have easily mistaken us for twins, if his hair wasn't deep chocolate, taking mother's side of the family, while mine was midnight, and his small goatee he was trying to grow. In truth, we weren't as close as we used to be, but we were still friends and brothers, who share a strong bond with each other.

"I promise I won't let anything happen," I assured. Outside, the blizzard was growing more intense and the weather had to be extremely freezing outside, so I needed to really bundle up. I dressed double layers, wearing two sweatshirts and pants, put on a thick sweater before zipping myself into my red snow jacket, tied up my snow boots, and finished off the look with a hat and snow goggles.

"I can't believe you actually talked me into this," I ignored Arthur as I grabbed my gloves, the ax I was going to use to chop down some wood, and was ready to head out the door. "When Mother and Father find out about this, they'll hunt you down and chop your head, and then come back to chop mine next. And I don't know about you, Helia, but I for one love having my head."

Shaking my head at my brother's ridiculousness, I murmured a goodbye to him as I headed out door and shut the door behind me. I may have been dressed in heavy layers, but that didn't seem to protect me that much from the fierce blizzard blowing so hard.

Somehow the snow was falling much harder than I thought, swirls and swirls of pure white hazed my vision, nearly blinding me, and I was only outside for only a few seconds but was already chilled to the bone. Taking in a deep breath, I forced myself to command my feet to move forward, into the forest. I realized there was no need for me to bring the ax with me since they were tons and tons of fallen pieces of wood lying on the snow-covered, just waiting for me to take them, and before long I already had an armful of wood that was more than enough to last us through the month of December.

Only I wasn't done yet to go back inside. I knew Arthur would doubtlessly send me to my early grave if I stayed longer than I promised, but I couldn't possibly leave when they were so many wood chucks surrounding me. I fell into a routine: walking forward to new piece I saw, examined it carefully for firmness, and if it passed the inspection I would place it with the pile I was already holding. I didn't have a watch on me, forgetting the damn thing at home, so I didn't know what time it was but definitely knew I was out here longer than I promised. But I just couldn't stop, and then started walking deeper and deeper into the forest when I saw there were more woods ahead.

It was then did I have the strangest feeling someone was watching me. It seemed silly to believe there was someone else there when I was the only one actually out in the freezing cold, but I couldn't shake the fearful feeling someone had their eyes set on me, their chilling gaze boring into my back and causing the hairs on the back of my neck to hair straight up. But each time I turned back, I would always feel like an idiot, seeing there was nothing but trees surrounding me.

"Paranoid," I muttered to myself, trying to convince myself there was no one there. "The cold must be getting to me."

"Helia."

I jerked up into a tall stand, frozen in place while my heart was pounding like a bongo drum against my chest by the sound of my name being called. I was being paranoid, I tried to convince myself. The cold winter is getting to me, and I'm imaging things.

"Helia."

All thoughts of me being paranoid were quickly threw out of my mind when I heard my name being called again in a soft whisper, still soft like before but a bit clearer for me to really heard it. The voice was soft and feminine, obviously a woman calling to me from whenever she was hiding and enjoying the fear she was putting into me.

"Arthur, if that's you, then let me be the first one to tell you this isn't funny." I said.

The soft whisper chuckled softly under her breath, the sound brittle and chilling. Chills were tingling down my spine, cold fear spreading across my entire body as I suddenly felt the touch of a ghost slowly brushing their fingers against my neck.

I then did what any person in my position would have done: I ran like hell.

I didn't even know where I was running, not caring about anything else except getting as far away from the creepy forest as possible. It was impossible to navigate my way in the forest, only meeting more tall trees each time I made turns, crossing paths that led me back into where I just was and leading me farther and farther away from home. It was so hard to see anything through the haze of pure white chilling my body and nearly blinding me, but I still couldn't stop.

I had to get away.

"Agh!" I choked as my left feet suddenly got caught by a loose branch, losing balance and trembling down into what felt like a high hill, knocked hard onto the ground and smacking my head pretty hard against the ground. I could only lay flat on the ground, too shocked by what had happened to move or even feel the pain that was sure to haunt me later for revenge, watching the pile of wood I gathered scatter all around me and feeling drips of liquid leaking from the left side of my head, knowing perfectly well I was bleeding.

My vision was slowly fading into blackness. From the corner of my head, I saw a figure suddenly appearing from the mane of trees that I can tell was a lady from her feminine, slender figure.

She was dressed in a light dress, completely unaffected by the cold. She smiled gently, her lips curving up into the most beautiful smile I ever seen before.

"I've been waiting for you." She told me, and then she started to sing. Her singing featured the same perfection and beauty of an angel chorus from above, the sound so seductive and soothing.

Finally I blacked out.


	4. Chapter 4

There was nothing in the mane of blackness, nothing else was seen or heard except the sound of my heartbeat and soothing humming to a beautiful song calming my nerves and made everything seem alright.

I don't know how long I was unconscious. In the land of blackness, time seemed almost endless and still. I could have been blacked out for a few seconds, minutes, or hours. Maybe even days.

But it felt like I have been asleep for a full century, as I slowly opened my eyes, which were incredibly heavy and hard to keep them open when they felt so sore and tired, and then tried to slowly lift my upper body up into sitting position while biting hard on my bottom lip to keep from crying out in pain. Only soon did the pain decided to pick that moment to let out its' full revenge on me for refusing to suffer earlier, now coming back harder with intense, fully strong pain, knocking me right down into the…

Bed?

A bed, which was the softest bed I ever slept on and was smooth like buttermilk.

Confused, I lifted myself up to see for myself and was shocked to see I was not only lying on the softest bed, my body was covered with a warm crimson blanket, my left leg was being evaluated by four more pillows and had an ice-pack pressed againist, which was wrapped around some bandaging, and I was now in a different place.

Instead of being outside in the forest, practically freezing to death in the chilling cold, I was now in a place that was warm and cozy.

It seemed like we were inside a tree with the thick, bark-like walls surrounding us, but that thought was pushed aside when I realized they was no way a person can fit inside a tree. The ceiling was redone with hundreds of branches and vines sprouting hundreds of flowers that smelled just as wonderful as they looked beautiful, two small oak trees with beautiful autumns leaves falling gracefully onto the ground were standing by the left while there was a small garden of various beautiful flowers, and stacks of piled up books stacked all around the room.

That's when I first saw her, her back turned to me as she stood in front of her small fireplace and using her poker to carry a tea kettle over the fire without burning herself.

"I see you're awake." I stared at her wide-eyed in shock, wondering how she could possibly know that when I was as quiet as a mouse.

"Where are we?" I asked, glancing around the room.

"My secret hide-away," Although I couldn't see it, I could tell her lips were smiling. "I found you outside. You were badly injured when I saw you lying there, and brought you back to my home." When she was sure the tea was hot enough, she used the poker to pull the kettle away from the fire, delicately grabbed it by the handle, and poured the hot tea into two tea cups. She then poured some milk into them, then sugar, and slipped in a few drops of brown substances that almost looked like spice.

"You must be a pretty good nurse." I commented as I felt my head and realized it was wrapped with bandaging.

"It all depends on the patient," She said with a shrug. "But you poor baby, you must be so weak. How do you feel?"

I opened my mouth to answer the question, quickly getting cut off as serve pain rippled through my head, hitting me hard like I stupidly walked into a brick-wall. "Sore," I croaked. "_Very_, very sore."

She giggled the most adorable laughter I ever heard before, so real unlike the rehearsed ones other girls used when they flirted with me. It was soft and gentle, making the corners of my lips lift into a small smile.

"It's a good thing I found you," She walked over to the spice shelf over the fireplace, browsing through the different bottles and vials until she picked a pink one that almost resembled a flower. Closing her eyes, she recited a string of foreign words in a dead language I didn't recognized as she poured what was inside the vial into one of the tea cups. Even from where I was standing, I could see hints of sparkle and glitter in the spice substance being poured.

"Otherwise you would have no doubt frozen to death." She placed the teacups back on the tray and then turned around to face me, finally revealing herself.

The very second-_moment_-she turned around to face me, a powerful pang like nothing I ever felt before throbbed in my chest before my heart went frozen for a moment while my eyes widened in shock. As I was stunned into a breathless silence, only three things were running through my head while the rest of my mind was completely blank.

Feelings I never felt before in my life were coming alive, fierce and hotly burning like a flame to a righteous fire.

Realizing and seeing the true meaning of true beauty, which was too beautiful to believe it was real and too breathtaking for mere words to describe.

The girl I always believed in and everyone else thought was all in my head, whose face haunted my dreams nearly every time I closed my eyes, was real, actually alive, and standing right in front of me.

My dream girl.

She was a hundred, thousands, times even more beautiful than I imagined her to be, being the very incarnation of beauty and making every other woman in the world who seemed beautifully attractive and goregous look like an average hag.

She was the goddess of beauty herself with her lustrous caramel, long hair flowing down her back, reaching down pass her butt, and her bangs framing around her breathtakingly stunning face; the most beautiful emerald eyes that could easily be mistaken for priceless jewels; skin the color of tan and flawless and her slender, curvy body being hugged in a form-fitting, white strappy dress with flowing skirt; and her beautiful rose pink lips lifting up into the most beautiful smile I ever and making my heartbeat go faster and faster.

Her emerald eyes studied my expression, looking amused as a bright red color reddened my cheeks as I blushed bright red from her smile melting my heart. She giggled that musical laughter again while bringing over the tea to me, sitting down on the bed and placing the tray on the nightstand table.

She first felt my forehead for a fever, being very gentle and carefully avoiding the spot that was most sensitive, and made a clanking sound with her tongue as she shook her head. It was obvious I wasn't making the progress she hoped I would. After checking my forehead, she picked up one of the tea cups lifted me gently, and supported my head on her shoulder.

"My rose tea will help make you feel better. It has healing powers, but is also very hot." She warned as she help me drank the hot liquid, giving me slow sips.

Drinking the tea was the oddest sensation. It was like I could feel waves of coolness and hot streams running down my throat, the cool waves cooling up all parts inside of me burning while the hot streams warmed up all the parts chilled, making my body feel whole and healed.

"Ah." I smiled, sighing with relief by how much better I felt.

"I told you." She smiled, feeding me another sip. "My rose tea has healing powers."

She continued to feed me more of the tea while I drank more if it in silence. She kept glancing at me from time to time, sometime her eyes narrowed as she studied my face, as if she was trying to remember seeing my face somewhere before. Finally, when I was bold enough to look up and return the gaze, her emerald greens and my aqua blues were lost together in a trance as they were being mixed together. We were lost together in our gaze, making everything else fade away into blackness, with the gaze too powerful for us to break and yet too….unthinkable to do such a thing.

This was a moment I imagined and dreamt of so many things of before, and there were so many things I wanted to say to her. Tell her how I dreamt about her, imagined meeting her face-to-face over hundreds of times, how she was the muse of my art and poetry.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could make a sound she pressed a soft finger against my lips. Quietly shushing me, she leaned in closer to me, making my heart race by her sudden closeness, and ran her fingers through my hair. She cupped one side of my face with the other hand as she continued to play with my hair.

"There's something about you that is very familiar." She murmured, deeply gazing into my eyes.

I wished to say the same thing to her, telling her about the countless times I dreamt of her but I was too much of a coward to do such a thing. Especially as she leaned down closer to me, making me drunk with the tease of her cool breath and the sweet fragrance of vanilla, white peonies, and roses lingering on her skin. We were close enough for our lips to meet, close enough to even kiss.

Suddenly, she was moving farther and farther away from me till she was standing up, collecting the empty tea cups. She left me alone in the bed, lonely and practically bare naked without her being close to me and sharing her rich warmth.

Panicked and overwhelmed with the loneliness without her near me, I quickly grabbed her hand without thought and pulled her to me, not wanting her to leave just yet. Startled, she turned back to me, her eyes looking at me questioningly.

For the next few moments, my mind was turned to a complete blank while something else inside me was being turned on, something making me do and say things without thinking.

Gripping her hand firmly in my hand, she allowed me to pull her closer and sat her down on the bed again. Struggling a bit with the remaining pain burning my back, I managed to sit up in the bed, held her hand tightly while looking deeply into her eyes, and recited "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this," I gently stroked her hand, unable to pull my eyes away from her gaze. "My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

She pulled back her hand before my lips could come close to her skin, looking at me a bit bewildered. But after watching my fearful expression, worrying that I pushed my luck a bit too far and she was afraid of me, her expression softened and she placed her hand in mine again. "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this," She held our hands up, in front of us, pressing them against one another and lacing our fingers through each other. "For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

"Have not saints' lips and holy palmers too?"

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer." She giggled, about to slowly pull her hand away from mine until I tightened my grip before she had the chance.

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." I leaned close and whispered in her ear, feeling her body tensing into a stiff.

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take," I gently caressed her cheek, brushing her hair away from her eyes and leaning closer to her. "Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged."

My mouth came down on hers, my lips gently pressed against her velvet ones, taking us far away from her place to somewhere private and alone where nothing else mattered except the slow dance our lips were doing with each other. It was a kiss like nothing I ever felt before; ravishing my mouth and savaging in the intensity, so sweet and gentle with a hot fire running through our bodies that made me want more. So much more.

Slowly I pulled away and looked at her, seeing her eyes were closed and she was licking her lips, as if trying to remind herself of my taste. Lifting up her head, she met my gaze and her hand slowly came to her mouth in surprise, smiling as she pulled the hand away and looking at me with a distinctive look I couldn't grasp.

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took." She whisper, her smile growing brighter.

"Sin from thy lips?" I smiled back. "O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again."

My mouth eagerly came down on hers; wanting another taste of her sweet mouth again. My tongue slipped through her mouth, slowly gliding back and forth inside her sweet cave, searching for her tongue and brushing against it while feeling such aderaline burning up inside of me that was ready to explode from my body. With the kiss becoming more passionate and deepened into much more intensity, she wrapped her arms around my neck while I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. I wondered how it was possible for us to be as close as humans can be yet it seemed I wasn't close enough to her.

Time seemed to flow as rapid as the rough waters of rapid streams, barely noticeable to us while we were sharing more delicious kisses, which were setting off such hot fire inside me. She was straddling my hips, feeding me more of her sweet kisses I hungered for like food, and I moaned more into her mouth the deeper the kisses became, her hands running through my hair and brushing my face while my hands were gently stroking her back and I was trying to feel as much as possible through her dress.

She was so sweet, so beautiful, I wanted to have more. _Needed_ to have more.

Suddenly, her face was above mine, her lips detached from mine which I could feel were swollen red. I shook my head and blinked in surprise, taking me a full minute to bring myself back to focus. The expressionless, suddenly cool look in her eyes brought me shocked me back into awareness.

In one fluid movement, she was off me and standing. "I need to take you back. Your family must be worried sick about you."

That's when it all came back to me. My parents at home, sick in bed; my little brother taking care of them and worrying sick about me when I promised to be back an hour, and no doubt trying to think of ways to kill me when I come back. I didn't have the time, but I could easily tell I was gone for more than an hour.

She grabbed my clothes and helped me dressed, then she led me out the door of her place, running with me as I raced back home and saw my house was only a few feet away from me.

I groaned at the thought of all the yelling Arthur was going to do the second I stepped through the door and all the explanation I was going to need to do. From the corner of my eye, I saw the beauty was looking at my house with an unreadable look in her eyes and then was walking back to the trees. I quickly grabbed her hand, not wanting her to go and stopping her for a moment. "Will I ever see you again? How can I find you?"

Now that I met her, knew she actually existed and made me feel so alive, I wasn't ready to let her go just yet. I wanted to see her again, needing to know when I can be with her again.

She didn't say anything, and only looked at me for the longest moment, which felt like eternity. She then cupped my face in her hands, leaned in, and placed a sweet, long kiss on my lips saying goodbye that made me lose all focus of anything else expect the feeling her sweet lips were firing inside me. Brushing her lips against mine, she whispered "I'll find you."

The moment I opened my eyes, she was gone. Vanished like a ghost, making not a single sound as she disappeared.

It was then did I realize I made the most idiotic move I ever committed in my life: meeting the most incredible girl I ever met before and stupidly not giving her my name or asking for hers.

It was official. I was the biggest idiotic to ever live.

Kicking the snow beneath my feet in frustration, I limped my way home, only to be greeted by my brother sitting on the couch and looked like he was ready to strangle me with his bare hands in the next two seconds. Like I predicted, Arthur lost it with the screaming, but lowered his voice so he wouldn't wake our parents. But even lowering his voice didn't cure decreasing his voice that was loud with anger.

"_Where the hell have you been?_" He demanded.

"I was…out getting the firewood." I answered, making off my coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

He walked up to me, whipped me around to face him, and I saw great anger along with such worrying in his eyes. "So it takes you _three days_ to find some firewood? Three days it takes you!"

_Three days? _I stared at him baffled, wondering if the cold really gotten to me and making me hear things. Three days I've been out conscious, three days she was taking care of me.

"What the hell happened to you?" He said. "I was worried sick about you. Seeing the blizzard going from bad to worse, I panicked thinking my brother was lost in the forest and freezing to death. I came close to coming outside to look for you, but then realized Mother and Father would definitely find out both their sons were missing."

"Do they know?" I asked, panicked. If Father ever found out I gone out to the forest by myself, sick or not he would make my life disappear with his two bare hands.

"Of course not, you idiot!" My brother angrily snapped. "I had to cover for your ass, being the unfortunate loyal brother I am, and said you were feeling a little under the weather. And since I covered for your ass, it only seems fair you tell me what the hell happened to you while you were out there. You were supposed to go into the forest and come back in an hour with the firewood. But instead, you came back three days later with your clothes looking like a wreck and no wood."

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but then quickly shut it again. I knew Arthur was unbelievably mad at me, but even though he was mad he still covered for me, proving how much of a loyal brother he was to me. I wanted to tell him what really happened to me, telling him how I fell down a hill and badly sprained my ankle, was rescued by my dream girl who acted as my nurse and took care of me while I was out cold, and how we kissed so passionately, so many times my body was quivering from the remembrance.

But I knew I couldn't. What I shared with my dream girl was so wonderful and private, something I didn't want anyone else to know about.

Arthur saw the look on my face and eyed my seal lips, shook his head at me in disgust, and then walked into our room, shutting the door loudly behind me.

By the time I prepared for bed and went to our room, Arthur was already fast asleep in his bed but looked more angry than peaceful in his sleep. Sighing, I pulled back my covers and was ready to get into back, but then stopped when I noticed a folded letter was lying on my pillow.

A small sheet of thin pink paper, scented with the perfume of vanilla, peonies, and roses. I breathed in the sweet scent deeply, recognizing whose scent it was, and then quickly unfolded the paper, reading the letter that was written in deep pink ink.

_Good pilgrim, whose lips gave me the greatest and sweetest sin I ever committed, I enjoyed the time we spent together. I have never met anyone else like you, and I longed to see you again. I can only hope you feel the same way about me. If you do wish to met again, then come to the deep Northern west part of the Forest at midnight where I'll be waiting for you by the red-leafed tree. _

_May you have pleasant dreams tonight, my suitor. _

Clutching the letter close to my chest, I turned back and saw the window was slightly cracked opened, allowing ice-cold air to come into the room.

That would explain how the letter got in here in the first place.

If Arthur ever found out about her and what happened, he would go insane, thinking the legend was real, and tell my father who would refuse for me to go into the forest ever again.

So, the only right thing to do was not to tell him about her. If my brother never knew what happened, then he can't rat me out to Father. It was going to be hard figuring out ways to sneak in and out, without alerting my family, but it was going to be all worth it the minute I see her again.

I got into bed, closed my eyes, and drifted off into a deep sleep where my beautiful dream girl was smiling at me in my dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days were like a living, breathing hell to me.

Winter was still hitting Ivy Gomes hard, causing more snowfalls to pile up over ten feet that had to be shoveled out; stores remained closed and roads were blocked, making it impossible to get more and more needed supplies.

I was praying that these few days would help my parents regain their strength to fight their illness, but unfortunately they were still terribly ill. Mother's vision was getting so much worse, she was practically blinded while Father was too weak to do anything else but lie in bed and groan. As they lay sick in bed, they fell into an unusual routine that took us awhile to get used to. On some days, they would stay up till two in the morning with their coughing and sneezing, calling for one of us or both to come help them with something, and be asleep till three in the afternoon. When one was asleep or taking a nap, the other was trying to eat a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal, the only meal they eaten since they gotten sick and was the only thing they could eat without upsetting their sore teeth or nausea stomach. One would be using a whole box of tissue while the other would cough themselves nearly to death.

They were a few times I was always wondering when they were going to get better. Doctor Aldo said pneumonia is very serve, but most patients are able to recover soon when they're really being taken care. Arthur and I were taking care of them as best as we can, but that didn't seem to help them that much. It seemed only fair to ponder if they were ever going to get better or their sickness will become their ways to their early grave.

And it didn't make matters better when Arthur refused to speak a word to me. He was upset, and I could tell deeply hurt, I didn't tell him what happened to me in the forest even though he covered for me and helped me get into trouble with Father. Because I wouldn't talk, he refused to talk to me, acknowledge my presence, and ignored the countless apologized I told him.

The way my brother was acting was completely and so very childish, it was completely infuriating. Just because we're brothers, there's no law claiming we have to tell each other everything that goes on in our lives. But when I cooled down my anger with him and placed myself in his shoes, I would see the position he was in and began to understand the reason behind the way he was treating me. If things were reserved the other way around and he was the one who went out into the forest, I'd be worried sick if he came back three days later and looked the way I did when I came through the door. If he couldn't tell me what happened, my worry would turn to anger and I would deal with that anger by ignoring him, not talking to him for as long as it took for him to finally crack and tell me everything.

The only problem was I couldn't give in. I couldn't tell him or anyone else about what happened in the forest because what happened was my secret and my secret to bear. Including what I shared with her.

Every time I thought about her, cheeks would flame and become bright red while my heart was pounding loudly against my chest, ready to burst. My fingers would immediately fly to my lips, brushing them tenderly while quivering from remembrance of the heatedly hot and intense way she kissed me.

It has been a few days since I've seen her, and those few days felt like an agonizingly long, slow century that was almost like hell. With days going by, my memory of her was starting to get dimmer and dimmer. The memory was dimming so badly, it was almost starting to seem like none of it was even real. There was a part of me, a small voice, which was so sure of it and believed it completely, it was suggesting there was a huge possibly I hit my head pretty hard when I took my fall and dreamt the whole thing up while I unconscious.

But I was too smart and sure to believe such a thing. I remembered the chills and warmth spreading through my body as she touched me, the feelings soaring inside me the minute I saw her face, and the way I felt when we kissed it, and kissed again and again afterwards. Not amount pain from a fall can make up such a wondrous dream as that or make me feel the way I did whenever I thought about her.

She was the only thing centering in my mind these past days, helping me forget the numb hole in my chest that ached for her each day when I wasn't with her, the pain becoming massive and more unbearable each day my lady and I were apart. I cursed myself countless times for the idiotic mistake I made by not asking for her name. I let my food to go waste, barely having a few bites when the only thing that could satisfy my hunger was a ravishing kiss from her sweetly addicting lips. I was barely able to stay focus anymore as my mind wandered off, thinking about her and what she was doing, slightly praying she was also thinking about me, too.

If Timmy saw the way I was acting, he'd be sure to think I was acting insanely crazy because I was obsessed some girl I just met. Maybe I was, but I knew I wasn't acting this way about some girl I met recently. The girl, my dream girl, she was something else, something completely unique separating her from the other girls I met before that made her so…distinctive it grasped my attention and refused to let me be. I knew if I didn't see her soon enough, I'd surely go insane.

The following night, I was still up past midnight and writing in my journal, jotting down my thoughts and trying to think of a good plan to see her again. Next to me, across the other side of the room, Arthur was fast asleep in his bed, wearing that hateful scowl on his face.

_Dear Diary,_

_Days may seem to go quick to some people, but to me they felt like restless centuries, mocking me with their slow, long time. It has almost two weeks since I've seen my dream, and those two weeks have been the longest weeks of my life. _

I thought of the letter she left me on my pillow, saying how she felt the same way about her like I do with her and asking me to see her again. I hid it in my sock drawer, thankful my brother and I have two different closet and dressers, and read one before I started the morning and twice before. Whenever I held the letter in my hands, I would read it over thousands of times, memorizing each word by heart.

_Arthur still refuses to speak to me and made it clear how angry he was. This morning I tried to explain to him what had happened, leaving out the parts about my dream girl, but did tell how badly I was hurt when I fall down a hill and sprained my ankle. As I was talking, I noticed a strange look in Arthur's eyes, one I couldn't quite place but was definitely something when I explained what happened before I fell. When he looked into my eyes with that odd look, it was like he could see right through me and knew I was still leaving out a few specific parts he wanted to know about, deciding that would be a new reason not to trust me and remain angry. _

_As much as I hate the fact my brother and I are no longer speaking, I have other things still troubling my mind. Like the fact the girl, who's constantly in my mind, wanted me to meet her long ago and I couldn't do it in fear I would be caught. I've been going insane about her, I can barely think or eat when I can do is picture her waiting by the red-leafed oak tree and waiting for me to come met her. _

I bit my bottom lip hard when I was done writing for the night and shut my book, sliding it underneath my mattress for safe-keeping. I glanced at the window slightly cracked, which I forget to close and let all the cool air in, thinking of a plan.

In the letter, my lady instructed me to meet her at the tree at midnight, and it was midnight already. My parents were sleeping like the dead next door, which meant they would stay in their slumber condition for a few more hours, and Arthur was someone who could sleep through a storm unless someone was there to wake him up. I could easily leave the house quietly and come back in a few hours after meeting my lady, without anyone being aware of where I was.

I tried to ignore the voice inside my head telling me what I was doing was wrong, speaking from the part of me that has played the role of the obedient son for as long as I could remember. My parents' friends always praised them on their parenting skills, making us obedient and mature young men who could do no wrong, always following any rules our parents set down on us and never breaking a single rule. By sneaking out of the house without their permission, I would break not only their laws but the code I followed stating I'd never do anything to disobey the rules.

I bit my bottom lip, thinking hard about this. I've been aching to meet with the girl for a long time, and as much as I hate breaking the rules, sneaking out was going to have to be an expectation to those rules.

"Forgive me, brother." I murmured to Arthur, slowly getting out of bed and getting dressed in the warmest clothes I own for the harsh blizzard happening outside. I dressed in three heavy, thick sweaters, two sweat pants before placing on the heaviest pants I wore, and my snow boots, finishing off the look with my red snow jacket, hat, and goggles to protect my eyes.

_She told me to go to the Northern west area of the forest and meet her by the red-leafed tree_, I memorized the instructions she left me in the note while cracking the window wide enough for me to slip through it, and then stole another look at my sleeping brother. As long as I get back before sunshine, I should be alright.

"Helia!" I jerked at the sound of my name, my body going hot and cold while it was frozen as a statue. Counting backwards from thirty, I slowly turned around, my eyes widening in shock as I saw my brother was fully awake, pointing an accusing finger at me.

Dear God, I gulped.

"Tell mother the pancakes are ready." An unsettling daze crossed his sharp, aqua eyes, making them look hazed with tiredness. He lowered his head, his eyes becoming heavier and tired, and he was soon sleeping and snoring again.

I sighed in relief he was only sleep talking, but decided to do something before I left. I used some clothes, shoes, books, and other pillows to make a figure that could pass as a sleeping human form, and covered it with my blanket, masquerading a sleeping boy in his bed. If Arthur does ever wake up or has another episode like that again, he would see my substitute and think I was still asleep. As long as he doesn't come over to peel off the covers, I should be safe.

Quickly, before anything else could distract me, I took my leave and crawled through the window, closing only a slight bit to let some air in and purposely not locking it so I can slip back inside easily when I come back. The weather was ten times more intense than the last time, snow hazing my vision even with the goggles on and practically burying my backyard.

I went to my inner warm place, a beautiful beach and a wide blue ocean with the sun shining down on me, as I ran in the cold, trying not to let the chilling air get to my head. I ran to the North and then turned west, soon finding myself running in the deep part of the forest and being surrounded with nothing else but trees over sixty feet high, hiding me from view.

As I kept my eyes out for any oak trees or red leaves, waves of disappointment crashing over me when all I saw surrounding me were pine trees and more pine trees covered in white snow. I was starting to believe the letter could have been a trick from my brother who wanted to get even and knew I would be gullible enough to believe it, that perhaps the maiden I saw in the forest was really nothing more than the work of imagination playing cruel tricks on me.

Suddenly, just as I was able to lose all hope and close to going back home, I heard it again. The beautiful singing belonging to a siren, who was the only creature known to make such a wondrous, intoxicating sound, singing her soothing and mesmerizing song that was low as a calming whisper with such tremendous power behind it.

Slowly I looked up and my heart was frozen the second I saw her.

The oak tree seemed to be only thing in the whole forest unaffected by the blizzard, standing tall like all the other trees with the bark and roots glowing bright light brownish-auburn, every branch firm and covered with crimson red leaves mesmerizing to look at with their brilliant shade. As much as the tree was beautiful to look it, there was another thing much more breathtaking to look at.

She was really there, waiting for me as I prayed she would, her back arched against the tree. Her jeweled emerald green eyes looking unfocused and unreadable, hints of sadness in hidden in them, as she studied the fully-blossomed pink rose she was holding while singing her heart out. Like the tree, the harsh blizzard didn't seem to affect her at all, and given the choice of clothes she was wearing I was beginning to wonder if she even knew the weather was cruel. She looked like she was dressed for the spring in a yellowish-green midriff, off-the-shoulder top with puff sleeves, fuchsia faux-wrap mini skirt decorated with strawberries and a thin yellowish-green belt hanging from the top left and crossing to the bottom right, and fuchsia platform wedged sandals. Nevertheless, she was still breathtaking and looked somehow more beautiful than last I've seen her.

She closed her eyes as she came near the end of her song, pouring her heart and soul into the final notes and making them come to life with emotions. Then, as if she could sense my presence, she opened her eyes when she turned to my direction and smiled that beautiful, heart-stopping smile I loved so much that never failed to melt my heart. "I've been waiting for you, my pilgrim."


	6. Chapter 6

She barely had time to say hello, thanks to me. She looked so beautiful, so gentle with that smile on her face, and I was stunned such a stunning creature was actually standing in front of me.

Stunned from the fearful thought she would quickly blow into smoke like some sort of dream, I raced over to her, gently yet firmly shoved her against the tree, and crushed my lips against hers in a desperate kiss, a kiss unleashing all the yearning I felt while missing her and so much desperation, which was more for my benefit, as if to finally convince myself I wasn't dreaming, she wasn't some wondrous dream that was going to end soon, and what happened then and now wasn't a dream.

I could feel her shocked eyes watching me as I kissed her more, adding more intense passion, but she slowly melted into the kiss and kissed me back. As our lips connected in a slow, deep kiss, I was finally getting convinced this really wasn't a dream. She wasn't a dream she was being held in my arms, her lips were pressed against mine and kissing me.

She was able to pull back, but she was too marvelous, too sweet for me to be enough and let her go, so I quickly pulled her back into my arms and enveloped her slender form. After I wrapped my arms around her, she encircled her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her and deepening her kisses. We were already close enough as it was, but it still felt she was miles away from me and I wasn't close enough, so I pressed my body more and more against hers, our bodies fitting like pieces to a puzzle, which I loved.

I loved how we breathed together, as if we were one whole person. Loved tasting the sweet taste of vanilla and flowers. Loved hearing her sweet moans being buried in my mouth as our kisses became much more passionate as well as deep. Loved our tongues were dancing together when we let them play, at first dancing gracefully to a soft waltz and then was quickly picking up the beat as the dance was becoming hotter and intense like a fiery tango, dancing for a dominance which both of us were planning to win. Shivers of excitement spread from the pit of my stomach to every inch of my body, setting the adrenaline high and sinking deep in my veins.

If our passion could be any form of water, it wouldn't be something mere as a pond or a stream since those couldn't even come close. Our passion would be the wide, blue ocean, the sight of aqua blue stretching from horizon to horizon, sometimes gentle and relaxing like our kisses or the way I always feel whenever we spend time together, occasional have rough waters and waves crashing against one another symbolizing the passion and intensity in our kisses and our desire for one another as our kisses deepened. I ravished in her delicious kisses, which were more mouthwatering than anything else I ever tasted before in my life, as she did with mine, as if our kisses were our food we were hungrily starving for.

She was so completely beautiful, so completely unlike anyone else I ever met before and never failed to make me feel so alive. She tasted so sweet, her kisses were so sweet and addicting, and I didn't want the moment to end just yet when I still wanted more and more of her.

But unfortunately the moment couldn't last forever, even though I wished it could. No sooner were kisses reaching the extreme high of heated hotness and deepening, quickly starting to become something a bit more than just kissing, she slowly pulled her lips away from mine, ending things before they could really get out line.

With both of us panting hard, I licked my lips hungrily to taste the remaining sweetness she felt behind, nearly moaning out loud from the mouthwateringly addicting taste of vanilla and flowers. My lady lowered her head, hiding her face, and I saw her eyes were still closed as she licked her lips hungrily.

"That's a fine way to say hello." She smiled. We may have stopped kissing each other, but she still kept her body pressed against mine and held my hands firmly in hers.

I tried to my face hid from view as a scarlet blush I could feel was coloring it, but she saw it anyway and giggled under her breath. Another harsh, freezing chill slapped through the air like a whip, making me feel ten times cold and shivering while wishing I wore heavier clothes. My lady, on the other hand, didn't even flinched at all by the cold air, much less looked like she was freezing in the snow.

Quickly glancing at her curve-hugging, spring-appropriate choice of clothing, still unable to believe she would wear such a thing in the cold, I asked, "Aren't you cold at all?"

She shrugged, lowering her head a bit as a sudden, distant look crossed her eyes. "I don't get cold," Before I could really grasp into that look in her eyes, it quickly disappeared from her eyes and a smile was soon back on her face. "I'm so glad I finally got to see you again. I was almost worried the reason you weren't coming again was because you were starting to get sick of me."

Sick of seeing _her_? I stared at her dumbstruck, caught off guard and unsure how to respond to those words when they stunned me into a silence for a moment. It was so unbelievable such a lovely beauty as herself would be scared someone as ordinary as me would actually believe I would be tired of seeing her when I only met her once. Gaining control of my voice and trying to remind myself how to speak and talk, I said, "Believe, dear saint, I wanted to see you again. More than you can ever know, but my brother was giving me a hard time since I came back home a bit later than I planned."

"I hope I didn't get you into too much trouble." Concern crossed her face and I was touched.

"No, not all. Or at lease, not that much anyway." I nodded, wishing to change the subject. After spending all this time wondering when I was ever going to see her again while slowly going insane and now that I was finally with her, I didn't wish to spend time talking about my difficult, stubborn brother.

She swung our entwined hands slowly back and forth, looking giddy for some reason only she knew and I could only guess. "I was actually thinking about taking you to one of my favorite places in the whole forest. It's far from here, but I know a few shortcuts."

"Okay." I nodded as I wrapped my arms tightly around myself in a poor attempt to keep warm, willing to do or go anywhere to get me out of the cold.

"Whatever you do, never let go of my hands," She warned, tightly grasping my hands and surprising me by her strength. "When I give you a signal, close your eyes and keep them closed until I tell you to open them again."

"How will I know what the signal is?" I asked, getting another chuckle.

"Trust me, you'll know." She winked.

Still a bit confused, I decided to take her word for it and gripped her hands tightly in mine.

She nodded, satisfied she got my trust, and then turned serious, melting her smile away into nothing and making her face expressionless. Closing her eyes, she recited strange words in foreign tongue I wasn't able to understand, but as I leaned in a bit closer I was able to make out the last part she said I could hear but still couldn't understand.

"Enchantix."

With her eyes still closed, she was now humming, which was a beautiful sound to a different song I wasn't familiar with, and then she was suddenly glowing so brightly it was blindingly. I tried to narrowing my eyes to see her through the blinding brightness, trying to make out some images.

Her entire body was covered in such bright light from head to toe, with her caramel hair flowing wildly around her face like some sort of halo, vividly shining like a bright fire was burning brightly in her heart and sending its' invincible flames throughout her body. Some drops of the snow were coming over to her, but instead of melting the snow drops encircled around her body, twinkling like bright stars that added more sparkle to her glow. First her body was glowed a soft yet bright shade of pink as she outstretched her arms, threw her head back, and was letting energy flow uncontrollably inside her body, which made her look like the angel she was. Soon the dazzling pink became the color of Mother Earth green, the energy flowing from her hands, and she became the goddess of Nature and all things Nature Earth created.

When she opened her eyes, I nearly gasped and was close to pulling away, but reminded myself to hold onto her tight.

Her emerald green, two priceless jewels, were nothing like anything I ever seen before. They somehow seem much bigger, glowing an unusual bright green, and were piercing right through me with their gaze.

She then smiled at me, a smile I came to know as her signature which has half gentle caring and half fun teasing, and she winked.

I decided to take that gesture as the signal she warned me to look out for, and quickly closed my eyes, forbidding myself from seeing what she didn't want me to see. I then felt her gently tug my hands, pulling me close to and we were walking through something.

With my eyes closed, I couldn't see what we were walking into, but did know it was felt odd. It was as it unusual air, which was a combination of freezing cold and blistering hot, showered over us, and then slowly bits of me were disappearing, phasing through.

Then we were gone.

**Arthur's POV**

I haven't spoken to my brother in days because I was so angry that after all the worrying and covering for him, he still refused to tell me what happened. Even though I had every right to stay mad at me, the annoying thing was anger burned up too much energy, which was extremely exhausting after awhile when you feel wore out, and it was hard staying mad at someone who was your closet friend.

The silent treatment may have broken him down a bit to tell some things that happened, talking about how he badly sprained his ankle which I believed after witnessing his limping movements; I was still unsatisfied and madder because I could with one deep look into his eyes he was leaving out important details.

Helia's the oldest, and therefore has mostly the right to do whatever he wants, a thing I never really questioned before. So why was it I was worrying and questioning about it, out of all times? Perhaps I was being the annoying little brother trying to pry out information on a sibling's whereabouts. Maybe I was overreacting and shouldn't be this way because Helia will be out of the house, starting a new life without me there soon enough, and I wasn't ready to let go of him just yet. Maybe I was being my usual stubborn self in most situations like these.

Whatever the reason may be, I knew none of it because I already figured out the main reason was he was my brother and as his brother, whether I like it or not or wish I could have an off switch to it, I cared about him. And now it seemed caring about him was becoming too natural by the way my brother was acting.

He was barely himself anymore. He stopped eating, either giving me his food to eat or simply throw good food away when he didn't want to eat anymore than a bite; he was slipping away from focus, barely concentrating on anything else-much less work; was more quiet than usual, which was starting to scare me, and the look in his eyes which was absolutely nothing like the look usually seen in his eyes. In Helia's eyes, there was always a sense of maturity, the look of someone wise beyond years and lost in their thoughts, the eyes of a dreamer who was far away. Lately those expressions usually seen were gone and replaced by a new look that chilled me most time as I watch it cross his eyes. It was a combination of someone who had too much in their minds, they could barely think; brightly crazed insanity; and…love struck, the common look on his face turning him into someone I barely knew anymore.

Going to bed that night, I was in a horrible mood-but only because my brother, who always says I'm stubborn as a mule but doesn't know how much he's much more stubborn than me, letting me out in the dark. I was in a horrible mood, which were a bit fearful and dazed, because I know the minute I closed my eyes and sank into unconsciousness, my nightmare would begin.

My nightmare wasn't a typical nightmare where I'm faced with the thing I fear most of all, which would have a better advantage than I did in the dreams. Instead they were dreams that almost would have been simple if they weren't so mind-boggling confusing, always leaving in a chill in my spine the longer the dream would go or from the remembrance, jolting me awake.

The dream was almost the same thing, which has been going on for awhile now, always taking place in the forest featuring two lovers meeting in the tree. They would cuddle, talk sweetly in each other's ears while holding each other close, and kiss before the girl would suddenly disappear and the young man would be left alone.

"_My love_." _Given by the dark night, a mixture of midnight blue and black and was sparkled with over hundreds of stars, it was late night and a full moon, which was luminous as it looked enormous, almost like an eye looking right down at me. Trying my bed robe more securely around me, I turned to meet the speaker of the voice, shocked as I turned around. _

_It was my brother, Helia, looking straight at me, almost as though he could see me. Gradually I caught myself when I realized the young man looking past me wasn't Helia. He and brother looked too much alike it was hard to tell who from whom, but I was able to after studying his face closely and marking a few differences. _

_First was hair, which was a similar midnight blue color they both shared, but Helia's usually in a near ponytail while the man let his hair fly down his waist, looking womanish, and was the exact opposite of neatness. Second were the clothes, with the man wearing a peasant, old-fashion long-sleeved shirt sheen with sweat and splashed with dirt, brown trousers that might have been fine to wear before but were now ratty rags, and was walking around barefooted with no shoes to protect his feet from the sharp picks and thrones of the forest. And the final third was the look in his eyes that was familiar, as if I've seen in another person's eyes before: crazed insanity, mixed with chilling brightness and love-drunk longing. _

GranduncleDamon_, I realized with a pang of shock going through my chest. Grandfather showed us dozens of pictures of his elder brother before his death, always looking at Helia and saying how they would easily be mistaken as twins. I completely agreed when I eyed the shockingly remarkable resemblance the two, but it was one thing to see a person in a photograph and a completely different matter when the person is standing right in front of you. _

_His longing, insane eyes bored through me, sending chills up and down my spine, and the gaze was too powerful to break away. It was almost as if he could see me right there and knew exactly who I was, despite the fact he was out of the picture before our father was even born, delivering an important I needed to know through his eyes in a language I couldn't understand. The longer the gaze was on me, the more frightened I became, wishing this horrid dream would come to an end, while was gradually able to place the look somewhere. _

_It reminded too much of Hel-_

_At the sound of a small twig being cracked, Damon pulled his eyes away from mine and looked over my shoulder, breaking me free from his powerful daze. A bright smile, one that looked so happy yet at the same time matched the look in his eyes, cracked on his face, as a figure slowly appeared from the trees but still had the shadows of the trees as her camouflage, not letting me being able to see her properly. _

"_My love." Damon ran forward, pulled her forward by her arm, and was down on both knees, kissing both of her hands, acting like he has seen the holy light. _

_The moment I saw her face, I was stunned into silence. _

_Just attractive or simply gorgeous didn't seem to be the proper words to describe her, so beautiful would have to do although breathtaking seemed better. _

_With an intoxicating face of an absolute angel, slender body belonging to a goddess and curves being hugged in a white dress, golden-brown hair spilling onto her shoulders and flowing down her back, and piercing emerald eyes she was the very incarnation of beauty. She possessed the type of beauty that was heart-stopping and absolutely breath-taking; too beautiful it was unbelievable to think such beauty could be real. _

_But there was something also frightening about the beautiful woman's beauty, something…dark and cold._

_And that was when it hit me. _

_She was the legend of Grandfather's stories, the Lady without pity, the temptress in the forest who lives out of the hearts she stole from her victims. Seeing how truly beautiful she was, it was not hard to believe why men prefer to stay with her and go on with their lives. _

_However, watching a slight smile of coldness and dark amusing crack on her lips, a chilling glint gleaming in her jeweled eyes, I was beginning to fully understand why whoever was boldly enough to go with her was also a foolish man. _

_Completely oblivious to what was going to happen to him, Damon continued to kiss her hands, as if they were made out the most delicious chocolate he couldn't get enough off. It was only till she squatted down to his level did he stop and stared at her in love-daze as she smiled, the hidden shadows of the cold darkness still seen from where I was standing. _

"_I told my brother tonight would be the last night I ever come home to see him again," he said. "I never want to leave your side again. I'm never going to."_

"_Of course not." Her tone sounded gentle and soft, going perfectly well with the soft features of her face, but there was a dark undertone going more perfectly well with the strange glint in her eyes. _

_I quickly turned away before they kissed, preferring to hear than see their simple kiss turn into a tongue-wrestling, face-sucking event. When I was sure it was done and turned back, Damon was now in a trance as he looked into her eyes and she smiled, which was a combination of both innocence and wickedness, as she slowly lifted up two fingers and pressed them against his forehead. _

_Suddenly their bodies were glowing pure white, the color of heaven and of angels, glowing so brightly I was nearly going blind from seeing it. Weaved, streams of a rapid river, were shooting from his chest, flowing through the bond of them being connected by her fingers being pressed on his head, and were transferred into her chest, phasing through. The more waves coming out and being transferred, Damon's was slowly getting dimmer while hers was gradually glowing brightly. _

_When it felt like it was going on nearly forever, she pulled her fingers back and he was slumped to the floor, collapsed and pale. Smiling at what her trick had done to him, she looked up and smiled. _

_Right at me. _

_Like she could see me. _

"_Amusing to play with, but like all the others he was only destined to be disposable soon enough," She licked her lips hungrily, those same cursed lips that drawn her victims so easily to her. "Your uncle was mine and my favorite one-till he got older. And soon your brother will be next."_

_She was then gone, along with Damon who disappeared with her. _

"_Helia!" I called out for him, praying for a response and panicking when I didn't hear one. "Helia!" I screamed louder. _

_My brother didn't come out from the forest, but I could see visitors, the victims, came forward to reveal themselves and were marching like soldiers preparing for war. Less than forty men ranging from fifteen to their late twenties, all who might have been handsome and happy before in their lifetimes but now were washed out and old, easily mistaken for zombies were muttering strange words under their breath that almost sounded like a song. All these men were victims to the frighteningly beautiful woman, cursed with unrequited love for all eternity. And the leader of the zombie parade was no one other than Grandfather, who was the only person who was himself instead of a love struck zombie. _

"_Grandfather." I murmured in disbelief as I stared at him. What could he be doing here, in my dreams out of all places. I knew my Grandfather wasn't a victim to the woman, but it still didn't explain what he was doing leading the army. _

"_All these men behind me are the poor souls who lost their hearts to that brutal woman, and sadly there are much more to come. You are the only one who can save your brother, Arthur," Grandfather said. "If Helia is not saved soon, then he will join us then."_

_I was then able to hear the words they were saying, which were frightening to hear as they were strange, the sound growing louder as they took smaller, closer steps toward me. _

"_La Belle Dame Sans Merci. La Belle Dame Sans Merci. La Belle Dame Sans Merci."_

_I felt a ghostly prick behind me, tapping me on the shoulder and waiting for me to turn around. Slowly, I turned back and nearly jumped. _

_Helia was standing right in front, not longer looking like himself but more like Damon, his clothes reduced to rags and his hair anything but neat, and the disturbing glint in his aqua eyes both love-drunk and insane as he smiled a crazed, bone-chilling smile with his lady standing behind him and nuzzling against him while darkly smiling at me. "La Belle Dame Sans Merci."_

I jolted in my sleep, shooting up straight into sitting position in my bed and trying to calm my heart, which was pounding so hard against my chest it was only a miracle it didn't pop out already. Beads of sweat were dripping down my forehead as I ran my hands through my hair, trying to remember my dream and remembering how both bizarre and frightening it was.

"Helia." I murmured.

Dreams can be silly most of the times, but I knew it was a completely different story for this one. Showing me my Granduncle I never got the chance to meet and the Doppler-ganger of my brother, the woman whose legend was the reason the forest was frightening to go into, the men who were her victims, and my grandfather sending me a message I knew I had to take seriously because so much was at risk.

Helia was in danger and I'm the only one who can save him now.


	7. Chapter 7

She took me to a place that was definitely miles away from the forest, from Ivy Gomes, and from home. The place was a forest, but was nothing like the one back home. It was actually early morning and warm, the sky clear blue and not a cloud in the sky unlike the dark gray ones I was used to, and the warm sun was shining down on our faces, making me feel so warm and calm as the soft winds were playing with our hair.

The day was becoming so warm; there was really no use for me to wear my heavy layers. So I quickly peeled off my hat, jackets, sweaters, and pants until I was down to my black long-sleeved t-shirt and gray sweats, which felt much better.

"So, is this your special place?" I asked her.

"The only to find out is to follow me." She beckoned me to take her hand; waiting till my hand held hers and then led the way inside the forest.

The way was mostly flat, and she helped cleared the path for us by pushing aside ferns and webs of moss. When her straight path took us over fallen trees and boulders, we would help each other through the obstacles with me lifting her up by her waist or her pulling me by the arm and helping me up, then releasing each other when it was clear. The touch of her skin never seized to make my heart beat loudly and a blush to appear on my face. Over several times that happened, and I caught a look on her face, featuring a slight smile and twinkle in her eyes, letting me know she could somehow hear it.

The walk was a bit long, but it wasn't silent. Instead the beauty took the time to ask questions about me, wanting to know me better and questioned me relentlessly about every detail in my life, even details I would think weren't too important. She asked me about my hobbies and dislikes, movies I watched or liked and/or hate, the places I've been to and the places I wanted to go to, and books-endlessly books, which seemed to be the main topic of the questions, along with art and poetry.

I couldn't remember a time I talked so much. More often than not, I felt a bit self-conscious talking about myself; sure I was becoming boring to her. But the absolute absorption of her face and her never-ending flow of questions compelled me to talk more and more. Some were easy, but a few were difficult and set off a few blushes. When I did blush, she would ask another round of questions.

"Who was the one who taught about art?" she asked, swinging our entwined hands back and forth as we walked.

My heart sank a bit as I thought of Grandfather, remembering how much I really missed him and that cursed promise he wanted me to follow. If he saw me right now, would he be disappointed? "My grandfather was a brilliant who taught my dad art when he was a kid. When he saw much how I liked it, he became my teacher and taught me everything needed to know about art."

"What about poetry?" she asked.

I shrugged, feeling warmness upon my face and another blush setting off. "That one came from my own. I loved reading a lot, but poetry was something I loved to read mostly."

"Who's your favorite poet?"

I bit my bottom lip, trying to think of one when they were too many for me to possible count. "My two favorite would have to be…John Keats and William Shakespeare."

She asked me more questions; this time about people. She asked about my family, about Arthur and what we do together, and Timmy. And the most questions she asked was about Grandfather, asking about what he was like, what we did together with me and all the fun we had.

The hike took us more than two hours, but she never showed any sign of impatience. The forest spread out around us in a boundless web of ancient trees, and I began to be nervous we would never find out way out. But she was perfectly at ease, comfortable in the green maze, never seeming to feel any doubt about our direction.

"Here we are." She announced, leading me down a path, toward a clearing where light was spilling from the other side.

I reached the end of the path, pushing aside the ferns, and stepping into one of the loveliest places I ever been to before in my life. The meadow was small; perfectly half round, and was surrounded by endless flowers releasing their sweet perfume. In front of us was a small river, calming and peaceful, playing the music of bubbling stream. The sun was directly overhead, filling the place with a haze of buttery sunshine. I walked slowly and looked around, feeling so much at home with the swaying trees, the beautiful flowers releasing more of their sweet scent, and the warm, glided air.

"Now, you see why I love it so much," I turned around to see her slowly entering the small meadow, smiling at me. "Things are so…peaceful."

"Peaceful." I nodded, agreeing with her.

We sat in front of the river, took off our shoes(and I rolled up my pants up to my knees) and dipped our feet in the cool water, and lay back on the soft grass, still holding hands as the cool air kissed our faces and the nice sunshine warmed us up.

"You know what's so funny?" I asked her.

"What?" she asked.

Turning my head over to her direction and seeing her eyes were watching me, I said. "Every time I'm near you, I always feel like I'm living so dream I think that's going to end soon. Before I even met you, I dreamt about you. Then when I met you, you took my breath away because I couldn't believe my dream girl was actually real."

"You dreamt of me?" She said, coming closer to me. Laying her head on my chest, she wrapped her arms around me and nuzzled against me.

"A few times." I answered, blushing a bit.

"That's so sweet." She whispered as she pecked my chin and rested her head back on my chest.

Sitting up just a bit and leaning on my elbows, I looked down at her. She was humming again with her eyes closed, looking like she was almost sleeping but seeming very cozy. "Tell me about yourself."

"There's nothing really to tell." She answered.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I said. "You asked me over hundreds of questions about me, so it's only fair for me to ask about you."

Slowly lifting herself off me, she met my gaze and smiled "The only interesting thing about is my secret."

"What's your secret?"

My question caused her smile to melt away, turning her expression serious. "What makes you so sure I can easily trust you? This secret is for me to know, and people to never know."

"You can trust me because, unlike some people, I know how to keep a secret," I told her, but saw she was still unconvinced. "Also, the fact you took me to one of your favorite places proves you trust and like me enough."

For the longest moment she only looked me, her piercing emerald greens looking me through me and seeing everything needed to be seen. "Instead of telling you, I'll show you."

I was confused as she slowly got off me and took a few small steps back, wondering what on earth she was doing.

Looking much more serious than I've ever seen her, she raised her hands over her head and crossed them, exclaiming "Enchantix."

Her body was glowing brightly again, somehow much brighter than ever in a soft shade of green with her caramel hair flowing wildly and her emerald greens looking un-human and unusually green.

I squinted my eyes, trying to look at her through the blinding light. And then just as soon as the light was reaching its' brightest peck, it exploded into a displaying flow of light, setting off almost like a firework.

Slowly the bright lightness dimmed down enough for me to see her while still remaining dazzling bright. When I was finally able to see her, I gasped.

She was the very meaning of beauty and was an absolute goddess, dressed in high-waist, hip-length frock dress, primarily fuchsia, with orchid, violet, powder blue and soft green trimming, thistle, above-the-elbow translucent gloves that are decorated with various pearl colored jewels, and soft green and light yellow, ample butterfly wings with orchid outlining that are bejeweled with pear shaped and colored decorations. Her hair was styled into elegant pigtails and grows several inches longer to her ankles. She has also discarded her fuchsia colored boots and dons strappy, cyan colored, barefoot sandals, and wore a tiara upon her head.

She looked…she looked…

"Beautiful," was all I had to say, even though it still felt it wasn't enough to describe how she looked. I was barely able talk, much less breathe, while staring at the gorgeous creature smiling as she stood in front of me and wondering how she somehow was involved in my life.

She gently smiled at me, as if she already predicted my shock was the way I was going to react, and then fluttered her wings, clapping them softly together and making a sweet sound with each sound. As the wings clapped, drops of glitter and sparkle rained down on the ground, which was starting to glow soft green. At the touch of the green magic, the ground was slowly starting to shake, ceases slashing randomly along and hundreds of flowers were sprouting. Still smiling, she flicked her hand to the left, reaching toward the river and streams of water rose up and were gushing like a fountain. Flying so high and laughing with joy, she released streams and streams of magic from her hands, bringing the meadow to life by the touch of her power. Everything was growing bigger, stronger, and better.

"You're like an angel." I whispered, watching her giggle as she flew carelessly with joy through the sky.

"A fairy is more like it," she said. "The fairy of nature, having all control over Mother Earth."

"Incredible." I breathed, watching her magic beautify the meadow.

She flew over to the spot where I was staring at, looked down at me with a beautiful smile on her face, and suddenly transformed herself back-through a swirl of green and pink-and fell into my open arms.

"You caught me." She said, her eyes shining like newly earth green.

"Of course, I would catch you," She wrapped her arms securely around my neck, and I carried her bridal style as I walked back to the river to the stick my feet in the cool water again and carried her onto my lap as I sat back on the grass. "I would never let you fall."

She said nothing, only sighing as she laid her head on my chest and nuzzled against me. Silence filled the passing time between us and almost seemed to go on forever, but it was the type of silence that didn't require noise because it was so comfortable.

"Flora." She murmured, breaking the long silent moments with that one word.

"What?" I asked, snapping back into reality.

"Flora," she repeated. "That's my name. I realized the last time we saw each other, we didn't say our names. This time I wanted to make sure I won't make the same mistake I made before."

"Flora," I repeated, smiling while seeing how much I was already liking the sound of it. The name sounded sweet and gentle, a name meaning flower in Spanish, and was very beautiful that seemed fitting for a beautiful girl.

"Tell me your name." she said.

"Helia." I replied.

"Helia," she repeated, smiling. "A very dashing name for a very dashing man."

I couldn't help chuckling at that one. Flora slowly pulled back a bit to look at me, her eyebrows arched in confusion so I had to quickly explain to make sure she wouldn't get the wrong idea. "I wasn't laughing to be rude, but it's just…when you called me dashing, I couldn't help but laugh."

"Why?" she asked.

"Well," I said. "If you asked any of my friends back home, especially Timmy, they would all have different opinions about me that's far, _very far, _from dashing. Dreamer would be something they'd use, since they always say how my head is constantly in the clouds. Unusual and ridiculous to my father and brother, who are big believers in fighting, finding it so hard to believe I'm a pacifist-"

"Basically," she interrupted. "You're saying you're different."

"Yes." I nodded.

"That's one of the reasons I like so much about you," she held her hands in front of her, pressing palm against palm in a holy palmers' kiss. "You're different. You see things in other ways other never discovers before, and…you're not like most people I ever met before."

I smiled, thinking about she was somehow able to tap into my mind and said practically everything I was thinking about her.

Those feelings once again were coming alive inside me, feeling like hundreds of butterflies were jammed into my stomach and ready to burst free, fire hot and fierce igniting in my heart and heatedness spreading throughput my body when she was close and we touched, and…this odd, deep connection I felt with her since the moment we first met. It should have scared me half to death I was feeling such strong feelings for someone I barely even know, but somehow it felt I've known her forever. We were connected in a way that was too great and deep for us to understand, but was a powerful force-bond-drawing us to each other.

I smiled, satisfied, and realized there was much I wanted to know and needed to know about her. I needed to know everything there was to know about her existence, wanting to know every little detail of her life. I asked her endless questions about herself, just like she did with me when she was the one asking the questions.

Some questions were easy for her, but there were more than a few ones difficult for her to answer and would make her pause for a moment. While she was in that silent stage, she would make use with her hands by twirling with her hair or playing with mine, as an odd expression crossed her that was pierced with sadness. As quickly as that looked appeared, it was gone in a flash the moment she got herself together and quickly move onto the next question.

What I learned about her was she grew up in another small town similar to Ivy Gomes, which were also several miles away from there. Like me, she grew up in a cottage house in the forest where she lived with her parents, her little sister, and two elder cousins, until one night a fire happened and burnt everything to the ground. Flora was able to escape the fire, reacting quickly once she heard the sounds of things burning and the strong whiff of smoke, but the rest of her family weren't as lucky and perished, so she was left alone. Ever since then, with her nature powers by her side, she was able to survive the roughness of life as she grew up and survived the roughness of the forest.

Since the fire broke out and burnt her house, she had over dozens of home at the forest where she used to live, till she moved to Gloomy woods, where she has lived for a few years. She had no one else but plants and the wood animals as her friends.

I sympathize with her, feeling so bad. I couldn't imagine getting by without my family, and knew I would be nowhere without Arthur and Timmy.

"I'm sorry." I told her."

She glanced at me for a moment before sighing and shrugging, as if she was expecting that kind of answer. "It doesn't matter."

"But still," I insisted. "To live life with no family or friends, all alone in the world. It sounds really lonely."

"But it's not lonely. I'm not alone," she smiled, trying to assure me. "I have the trees, the plants and flowers, and the animals as my friends. Nature is all the friends and family I'll ever need."

"What about people?" I asked.

That was the sixth time her smile was erased by my thoughtless words, and I instantly felt so horrible for asking such a question that dampened her mood.

"Can I be honest with you?" she asked after moments of silence passed us.

"Of course." I nodded.

"The truth is…I'm not really good with people. Not really good at handling them," she confessed, holding my left hand in hers while refusing to make eye-contact with me. I was able to see something, a certain glint, in her eyes, which could have passed for sadness if it wasn't completely something else. "I tried before, more than several times in fact, but they all end badly just the same. They always seem to…disappear."

I placed my finger under her chin to gently lift up her head up, making her eyes met mine. When I was sure I had her attention, I brushed her cheek tenderly but still held my gaze. "I'm not like the others."

"I know." She nodded, although she didn't look convince of that.

"I'm not!" I insisted, becoming frustrated when I still saw she didn't believe me. "I swear."

She smiled and chuckled a bit, both which held no humor whatsoever in them. "That's something they all say before they disappear."

I opened my mouth to defend myself, trying to convince her otherwise, but only realized she would doubtlessly have another comeback. I bit my lip again, an annoying habit I've been doing for years whenever I needed to think of something, and finally sighed. "The people who left you were horrible for what they've done. Blind not to see much of a treasure you truly are," I slowly caressed her cheek, letting my finger slip through her hair and getting tangled in their soft silkiness. "I know how much you are worth. You're worth so much, you're priceless. If you had any idea you mean to me, you would never doubt it and know I would never leave you."

She shied away from my touch, dimming any hope I had left to convince her, but slowly strengthened it bit by bit as she held my hands tightly in her hands, lacing our fingers through each other and resting them on her lap. While doing this, she gazed deeply into my eyes, as if she were still checking I was real and afraid I was going to disappear into thin air. "Why do I mean so much to you?" She asked softly, murmuring almost inaudibly. "You are my friend, Helia. The dearest friend I ever had in such a long time, but we barely know each other."

"I _don't_ care!" I exclaimed. "Whether we known each other for a day, week, month, or year, it doesn't change the way I feel about you. Ever since the moment I first met-scratch that. The first time I ever dreamt about you, this beautiful goddess who always haunted my dreams, feelings I never felt before were coming alive inside me. Feelings that were," I roamed around in my mind, trying to come up with the best word to describe those strong urges always pulling me to her, but I couldn't find the one to properly describe it. "And those feelings only strengthened when I met you face to face, in real life. Now that I know you're not just a dream, you're actually real, how beautiful you are, how kind and incredible you are, I'm never going to leave your side again."

I pulled her body into mine and wrapped my arms around her, embracing her right but careful not to squeeze her too tight. I rested my head on her soft hair, slowly rocking us back and forth, and wishing we could stay like this forever. Then, right then and there, at the moment when I finally figured out my feelings, I whispered in her ear those three powerful words I never thought I would say to anyone else.

"I love you."

Instead of acting shock with joy and excitement, kissing me breathlessly innumerable times and telling me the same words over and over again like the way I pictured in my mind, she quickly untangled herself from me. Quickly backing away from me like I was a contagious disease she wanted to steer clear from, with pure shock written all over her face and panic in her eyes.

"Flora." I slowly got up from the ground and walked toward her, but with each small step I was taking forward toward her she was taking back.

Her eyes rolled over me, as if focusing and remembering every feature of my face was costing a lot out from her. She was starting to shake, tremble like a flickering flame of a candle, but from cold but instead shock and nervousness while the shock in her eyes was increasing more and more, looking into my eyes and seeing I was true to my word.

"Flora." I was cut off by her, her voice gone of its' usual warmth and was cold and harsh.

"Don't you dare say my name!" she exclaimed. "Don't you dare breathe or even say a word."

"I love you." I repeated, saying it more loudly and hearing them echo throughout the meadow.

"Don't come any closer!" As she took another step back, she realized her back was arched against the tree. Before she could slip away, I quickly got in front of her, pressing her more against the tree until she couldn't move anymore, placing her arms firmly by her sides and making sure she wasn't going anywhere.

Placing my hands firmly on her shoulders, I leaned down and looked her directly in the eye, making sure she was making eye-contact before I began to speak. "I love you," I told her. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I'll say it a hundred, thousands times if that will have you believe me."

"We barely know each other." She weakly protested, but I continued on, as if I hadn't heard her in the first place.

"Every minute, second, I'm with you, I always feel like I'm at such a wonderful heaven and more alive than I ever been. I love your smile, which never fails to make my hear race. I love listening to your laugh, which is pure music to me and I haven't been able to get out from my head. I love how you're so gentle. I love the way you enjoy life. I love everything about you; even the flaws you might think are annoying but are still perfect to me."

She was silent, eyes widening in shock, proving she couldn't think of anything else as a comeback.

I leaned a bit closer to her, our lips only an inch away from meeting. "Just give the order to stop, and I will."

She was trembling, gulping nervously while her eyes glanced around everywhere, looking at anything but deliberately skipping over me. "Helia. You-me-we can't."

"But we can," I whispered. "We can do whatever we want without no worries. I love you, Flora, as simple as that. You can try to say you don't feel the same way about me, but I can tell otherwise. Just by looking into your eyes, I know you feel the same way about me."

"You have no idea what you're-" This time I was the one silencing her, but doing it with a kiss.

Crushing my lips against hers, I mustered all the love and passion I could into that one kiss, adding an equal amount of love as well as passion so she would finally get the idea.

At first she was resisting the kiss. She tried pulling away until I tightly embraced her body, tried shoving me away and hitting my chest till I pulled her hard against my chest, holding her close and resisting to let go. Slowly, after finally allowing herself to taste my kiss, her protests came to a halt. After awhile later, she started kissing me the same way I was kissing her; pouring as much love and passion she could muster into a heart-stopping, earth-scattering kiss.

She tangled her fingers in my hair and pulled me closer to her, even though we were already as close as we could possibly be, adding more passion to the kiss. Even as we crashed to the soft ground, with her lying underneath me while I was straddling her, we didn't break the bond of our kiss.

She titled her head back and moaned as my kisses moved down on her neck, relishing the soft taste of her skin and kissing every inch of it. "Helia."

Just as the kiss was about to reach its' full height and we were moving on to a much 'tasteful' base, I quickly pulled my lips away from hers before things would become too hot but still didn't pull away from her.

Her hair was looking messier than before, her face flush while her lips were bruised-sore from all that kissing, but she still looked like a angel.

"I love you, Flora." I whispered to her.

For a moment, she had that same look of shock on her face like before when I first told her the words. Suddenly her lips were crashed against mine again, this kiss was soft and gentle, letting me know exactly how she felt about me.


	8. Chapter 8

_So this is what love feels like_? I thought, walking back home just in time before morning sunshine rose.

I've read hundreds of descriptions in books and poems writers used when they try to describe the feeling and seen actors portrayed it, where the character feel more ever than they've ever been and the happiest person in the world. I never grasped that feeling until now, and I felt as though I had the ability to fly and was part of a marvelous dream I never wanted to be woken up from.

_Now I understood how Romeo felt when Juliet told him she loved him_, I thought, acting like an over-excited child as I jumped high and grabbed hold of the branch over my head. Swinging back and forth on the branch and acting like an eager monkey, I let out a cry of utter joy before letting go and landing on my feet, running home.

It may have been morning, but it was still too early for anyone to be up at that hour. I quietly went to the back and sighed in relief when I saw the windows was still the same way as I left it. I slipped inside, closed and locked it securely, and sighed again from the fact I actually got away with it.

Arthur wasn't in the room, but I could hear him in the kitchen, giving me just enough time to get dress before he comes and suspect something. I changed into a fresh set of clothes, pulled my long hair into its' usual ponytail I rested on my shoulder, and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth before going into the kitchen.

My brother didn't even seem to acknowledge me, too busy multitasking: stirring pots on the stove, cracking eggs on the flying pan and adding flavor to it, scooping hot oatmeal from the stove into two bright-colored bowls sitting on the counter table near him, squeezing the juice from oranges into glasses and caring for the hot tea steaming like crazy. I was getting dizzy watching him and shook my head to cure the dizziness, wondering how the heck he managed to do so much without tiring out so easily.

"Helia." My brother hissed the first word he ever said to me in days, his voice dark and cold.

"Arthur." I replied, using the same tone he directed at me. He was obviously still angry with me, but I refused to let my brother's stubborn ignorance spoil my happiness and good mood.

He grunted, not even looking back at me, and then nodded his head toward the steaming oatmeal bowls sitting on a tray along with two cups of freshly squeezed juice and mugs of tea, motioning me to deliver them to our parents.

Rolling my eyes for the hundredth time at my brother's stubbornness act, I grabbed the tray and took caution as I walked into my parents' room. This time they were awake, but only barely. Only Mother would actually smile at me gently while Father was focusing his eyes at the wall, grunting under his breath, which was his own way of greeting me in the morning. They took small, slow bites of their breakfast, washing down each bite of oatmeal with a thirsty gulp of tea and juice.

"How are you two feeling?" I asked, setting the tray on their bed, placing it on their knees. And then, I moved over to the nightstand, where I placed tow new boxes of tissues as I saw the last four were all empty.

While Father, a man of few words, was concentrating on taking bites of oatmeal, Mother smiled at me although I could tell it was taking a lot out of her. "Well, I can honestly say we feel nothing like we did the first day we gotten sick."

"Speak for yourself, Margret." Father grumbled.

I sighed while shaking my head, realizing which one of the Gabriel brothers was the one who took most of Father's…traits. Making sure they were settled and as comfortable as they could be, I left them alone and went back into the kitchen. No longer jogging over several tasks, Arthur was seated at the kitchen table, eating his breakfast while mine was getting cold on the counter, staring outside where the snow was gathering up, and his back turned to me.

"You know what I really hate?" I stared at him, shocked. Not because he was actually saying a full sentence to me, but because he knew I was right there behind me even though I was as quiet as a mouse.

Quickly getting over my shock, a frown darkened my mood and I had half the mind to ignore him, as if he didn't say a word in the first place. "Let me guess," I said. "When your brother acts so much like a baby, you just wanna scream."

He chuckled under his breath, the sound dry and brittle, and he still didn't even turn around. "Funny, but no."

"Then what then?" I asked, unsure what game my brother was playing but did knew I wanted it to end.

"The fact that not only my brother lied to me, but he also went behind Grandfather's back and did something he swore he wouldn't." Before I could grasp the meaning of his meaning, Arthur was already off his chair, walking toward me, and took out something from his shirt pocket he thrust into my face.

I already knew what it was from the scent, before I could see the color of the paper. The letter Flora given.

Looking at my brother, who was shocked but waiting for an explanation, anger fired in my veins, running high and hot. Arthur has done plenty of horrible things to me in the past, the unfortunate requirement involved when you have a brother, but if there was one thing he has never done it was looking through my personal items without permission. By doing this he crossed and completely broken the trust we built and the little respect I had left for him.

I snatched the letter from him, gripping it tightly in my hand like he could possibly steal it from me again. "You have no right going through my damn stuff, Arthur."

"And you have no right fooling around with some sprit temptress when you already know the consequences and what's at stake, you idiot!" He roared. Trying to cool off his anger, he slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead, so hard I nearly flinched, and brought his head down low. He slowly took his hand away from his face and looked at me in disbelief, like he couldn't believe I was something so beneath and I was the biggest idiot. "Didn't what happened to our grand uncle ring any bells in your head? Did the fact Damon became her love-slave till the time of his death and Grandfather-our own Grandfather-blamed himself because of it."

"You're delusional!" I told him, dismissing the silly thought but there was a part of me that couldn't let it go.

I left my plate, which still had most of the food on it, and was ready to leave till my brother tightly gripped onto my shoulder, refusing me to go. When I turned around to me, in his eyes was anger, which matched the same amount burning up inside me.

"Helia, you know this woman-" I cut him off; hating the name he was using to address her.

"Flora."

He continued on, as if he didn't hear me. "She isn't who you believe she is."

"Oh, and you think I'm the delusional one." I snorted, only increasing his anger I could tell he was barely able to control anymore.

"I'm not the one thinking I'm head over heels for some girl I just met. I'm not the one a slave to some filthy whore who probably had dozens of men treated the same way you believe is the special way she treats you."

That was the last straw.

Anger, which was something I always had control over and would never allow to control me, was growing more and more inside me, rising high like lava to a volcano that was ready to burst out. The second I turned around to face Arthur again, it was almost like those few moments were nothing but a blur gone blank in my head. One moment I was glaring at him in hatred, wishing to make him eat his words and getting back at him for the horrible thing he said about my love. And the next thing I knew my hand was balled up into a fist, and that fist made contact across his face with a hard punch. A punch so hard he was knocked to the ground in a second, hitting the floor hard when he fell and was holding the left side of his jaw.

When the anger passed, I was myself again and it was then did I realize what I had done, my eyes widening in disbelief even though I was seeing it with my own two eyes. I, a pacifist who hated violence and only believed in fighting when use for self-defense, actually hurt my brother with my own hand.

"Arthur!" I ran to the freezer to retrieve the ice-pack, kneeled down in front of him, and tried to get the ice on his jaw but with him squirming around it was difficult to do so. "I'm so sorry."

My brother stanched the ice form my hand and pressed it against his jaw, slowly getting himself off the ground and sighing when it was beginning to cool off the pain. The relief in his eyes quickly died out as he turned to me, looking both so shocked and a bit scared, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened anymore than I did.

"Just follow me." He didn't even bother to wait for me, already walking into our room with the ice-pack still tightly pressed against his jaw. Hesitantly, I got up and followed him.

As he was digging for something inside his closet, he told me about the dream he had last night, being very descriptive with details. Telling me about meeting our granduncle face-to-face in his dream, nearly mistaking Damon for me because we looked too much alike; seeing my dream girl-my Flora-and how she was like the puppeteer pulling the strings of her puppet, who was Damon; Grandfather leading an army of the Spirit woman's past victims and warning him I could be the next one; and then seeing me in the exact same state as Damon, insane with craze and drunk with love.

It was the description of Flora that really got me silenced and shocked; stunned by the fact he was already to describe her exactly even though he never met her before. Lustrous, flowing caramel hair, the face of an angel and body of goddess, a beautiful smile sure to make any heart melt or stop, and the most beautiful emerald eyes with their twinkle gleaming.

Arthur stopped looking for whatever he was looking for when he noticed how long I was silenced. He turned back and his expression remained the same as he saw the shocked expression on my face, knowing he got me good. "That's the same way Flora looks like, isn't it?"

Stunned and unable to talk, I slowly nodded my head.

He nodded back and continued looking for the thing he was searching for, and when he finally it he carried it in two hands and gave to me. The thing was a plain, brown box, which was much heavier than it looked. I arched my eyebrow in questioning, wondering what was inside, and my brother nodded, as if to encourage me to open it.

I settled the box down on my bed, wondering what was inside and cursing myself for working myself over nothing. Really I was honestly scared out of my mind whatever was inside the box was going to prove Arthur was right and I was going to even more stun than before.

I took in a deep breath and quickly, without hesitant, opened the box. The first thing I saw inside was newspaper clippings, along with posters, and last but not least Damon's diary. The newspaper clippings were articles from five years ago to all the way back in 1846 about boys from the Ivy Gomes who mysteriously disappeared without a trace, all of them saying how the boys went into the dark forest and were never seen from again, and the posters were of the very same boys. Each poster showed a picture of a smiling young man, at the bottom was their name and birthdates, along with the date of the day they vanished.

Daniel Henry, Max Huck, Kurt Cameron, Dylan Pucker nickel, the names seemed to go on and on. The more names I read, the more sick the stomach would feel as knots were being tied tight and I would feel closer and closer to blacking out.

As shocking as reading the names were, it was reading Damon's diary, which was a hard-cover thick little thing with every page jolted with words describing every detail he spent with her, the love of his life. The last entry he wrote, dated April 5 1936, was one I couldn't take my eyes off from and read over dozens of time repeatedly, the sickness in my stomach increasing more and more till I was sure I'd be passed out in a moment.

_Dear Diary,_

_Today will be the last day I ever write in this book again; because this will be the last night I will be home. As much as it pained me to leave my friends and family, especially my little brother, Paul, behind, it still has to be done if I want any possible hope of finding her. _

_My beautiful flower left me behind in the forest, on the night I returned after I told her I loved and adored her. I was shocked when she didn't say it back, but I only dismissed the thought when I realized it could be because no one else has ever said those words to her in the longest time. But then when I came back, she only kissed me and murmured those sweet words I've been dying to hear from her since the moment I met my dear saint. _

_She said she loved me. _

_We fell asleep in each other's arms, the soft grass as our bed and the stars twinkling brightly over our heads. Then I had the strangest dream, which was so disturbing I tried to wake up but no matter how many times or how hard I tried the dream seemed to refuse me to leave. In my dream I was at the forest, but this time alone with my lady no longer with me, and these men who looked like an army of after-life zombies came from the forest, delivering me this message. _

_La Belle Dame Sans Merci. _

_By the time I finally woken up, my lady was gone and that was the last time I ever saw her again. She just left, vanished without a trace or even said goodbye to me. The moment she was out from my life, it was like a huge hole was punched into my chest, erasing all that seemed good and wonderful, breaking my world down into nothingness and was left numb. _

_Six months has passed since that happened, and the hole in my chest only grown bigger and bigger. I would have never believed someone I loved so much could be so cruel to me, not even caring enough to at least see me again. _

_My grandfather warned me I should never go into the forest, but I did. I promised him I would never go anywhere near the deep forest and not run the other way when I come into contact with the dark woman, but I did. Breaking all that I promised and falling madly in love with someone who was never meant to be mine in the first place, I am doomed till the time of sweet death and possibly the after-life of my bleeding heart dying from unrequited love. _

_I can only pray the next man whom she'll find as her next victim will be a bit smarter and not share the same fate. _

The book slipped from my hands and fall with a loud thump as it hit the floor. Quickly I walked over to the corner and hid my face, not wanting Arthur to see me like this or me looking back and seeing the look on his face.

I haven't even realized I was crying till I was aware of the stinging sensation burning in my eyes as a huge lump was forming in my throat and my face was soaked with tears. I knew I might have looked ridiculous, but the thought escaped my mind and I barely cared at all in that moment.

I refused to turn around, even as my brother placed his hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. Even after all that's happened, he still was able to be sincere and actually mean it. Which only made me feel ten times worse for losing my temper and taking out my frustration with a punch to his face. "I'm sorry you had to find out like this, but it's true. Everything that girl said to you, every kiss and hug, were nothing but lies and the same routine she has been doing for years with other men for the past hundred years."

I didn't speak. I couldn't speak. Not when my head was so filled with thoughts, I couldn't possibly think straight.

But that didn't stop Arthur from giving his opinion and talking more. "Everything you felt for her, Helia, was a complete lie. She's the infamous Spirit woman Grandfather warned us about in his stories. The same temptress that lures men to her and stole their hearts. Every person who ever came near her lost his heart to her, and were played like dolls."

I pushed his shoulder away, too numb and shocked to even pay attention to his words or care to hear what he was saying.

The only thought that came to mind was she fooled me. The girl I dreamt of meeting for so long and practically was my whole world wasn't who I thought she was.

Everything, including the deep love I felt for her, were nothing but…

Lies?


	9. Chapter 9

Shrugging away from Arthur's touch, I hurried out from the room, quickly slipped on my shoes, and bundling up in my jackets as I headed to the door.

"Where you going?" Arthur called after me.

"Out!" I replied, ignoring my brother's protests as I walked out the door and slammed the door loudly behind me.

The morning that seemed so bright and peaceful when I returned now was darkened to nasty and depressed gray, promising another blast of unbearable blizzard. The cold was just as intense as ever, so fierce the cold easily slipped through my jacket and quickly chilled me right to the bone. But as cold as it was, I couldn't turn back and go home.

Not when I learned the unbelievable.

In a way, my reaction to the news regarding Flora was stranger than I thought it would. There was a part that couldn't believe it and was praying it couldn't be true, which was the part I was trying to hold onto for as long as I could, but there was another part that somehow knew it all along.

Only that part didn't want to believe it anymore than I did.

It was impossible to see through the way with the freezing temperature dropping lower and lower by the second, but I was too determined to think about backing down now. It was clear this time I was going to have to be the one to find her since she already found me twice, and even though I knew it where she could it was going to be impossible to find it.

"Flora!" I yelled. "Flora!"

There was no response, but I still kept on going, my eyes scanning over the area for cameral hair and emerald eyes.

I couldn't believe, but in that moment while I was running and screaming her name, getting no response and growing more frustrated along with fear, realization suddenly dawned on me.

Suddenly it explained a lot of things. The graceful fluid with her movements, even when she was sitting down and completely still. The beautiful song that sang to me sleep as I fall, and then woken up in her care. The certain, unreadable glint in her eyes I couldn't grasp often whenever she looked at me, and that small smile on her face, as if she knew a secret or was part of one I was dying to figure out. How she was completely unaffected by the bitter cold when she wore that revealing, spring-like clothing.

When she first met me, one of the first things she said to me was I looked very familiar to her. At first I couldn't understand it then, but now I do. Thanks to my exact resemblance to my granduncle, her last victim and supposedly her favorite, she might have mistaken me for him, which would be one of the reasons why she rescued me in the first place.

"_FLORA!_" I screamed, using every bit of air in my lungs to compose such a loud scream, which was ear-scattering even to my ears.

How could I have been such a fool? How could I not guess someone as unbelievable like that was actually…_human_? I told her everything there was to know about me, but she was doubtlessly smirking in her mind as she listened and told me lies for answers in return. With every murmur she whispered in my ear and all those sweet kisses she placed on my lips, she was enjoying the fact she had me wrapped another her little finger and was possibly thinking of more amusing ways to make her heart-play game more fun-for her, at least. For all I could have known, while I was wandering off in the freezing cold, calling her name and freezing to death, she was in her warm private room, having herself a hot cup of tea and probably laughing in delight by how she played me.

The lying, heart-breaking, manipulative witch!

"_FLORA!_"

I was going through an emotional roller coaster while I continued my search, often more than several feelings mixing inside me and I wasn't sure which to feel first, which one hurt the most. The heart-break from learning the unbelievable truth and realizing I was nothing more than a new doll for her favorite game, meant to eventually be disposable. The shock because I never would have imagined someone I cared about so deeply could hurt me so badly. In rage at her for making me fall in love with her in the first place and even more angry with myself for acting like a love-drunk fool and not taking Grandfather's advice more seriously.

Before his death, the last night I spent with him, he made me swear I would never go anywhere without Arthur by my side and go into the deep forest alone. While I was too busy rolling my eyes and being angry at him for his foolishness, it never occurred to me he was right all along.

But what was she planning to do with me? Keep me around until she got bored of me? Toss me away like unwanted toy and getting herself a new lover to replace me with? Or make me fall more and more in love with her, my heart reaching the very peak of yearning for her, and then she would disappear from my forever and leave me with the curse of a yearning, bleeding heart for the rest of eternity.

"Damn you! I know you're out there, somewhere!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Answer me!"

But there was still no reply. The only sounds I could hear were the chilling air growing more intense than before and my heartbeat going in a much-more slower pace. I thought I could handle the cold and bear with it, but with the chilled wind growing more freezing and intense by the second I wasn't so sure anymore as I felt my body go completely numb.

I saw the red-leafed oak tree, the place where I met her the previous night before, straight head and was shocked to see it was still there. The tree was the only thing in the whole forest unaffected by the cold, still bright like it was still autumn, and was just as beautiful as before, but somehow I was able to see it more clearly and see the newfound darkness that was hidden before.

I went over there to rest for awhile and caught my breath, but the moment I was only a step away from it, the ground broke through beneath my feet and I was falling fast through, finding myself landing on some underground sliding tunnel sliding deeper and lower into underground till I reached the end, flew off from it, and landed hard on the ground while smacking my face hard with my landing.

I was already where I was at when I inhaled the scent, but wasn't ready to open my eyes yet. Instead I curled up into a ball, allowing myself to feel the pain brutally killing my body from that horrible fall and biting my bottom lip to keep from screaming out in pain. I bit my lip so hard, idiotically forgetting how sharp my teeth were, blood was filling in my mouth.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance." At the sound of her voice, my pain was immediately forgotten. Jerking into a stand, I dusted the bits of dirt and wood off my clothes and tried to make myself presentable and decent, keeping my face expressionless so she wouldn't suspect anything till the moment was right.

She barely noticed at all. She was sitting at a dark-green wooden rocking chair near the fireplace, taking a few sips of her tea while her eyes were completely engrossed in the big, heavy open-book lying on her lap she was reading. Once again, she was dressed in the flowing white dress she first wore when I met her and recognized the dress she wore as she sang me to sleep when the pain from that awful fall was too much for me to bear and I was knocked unconscious.

Looking at that dress and remembering how, just before I was knocked out, I saw a mysterious woman walking toward in a flowing white dress. And then when I woke up, Flora was wearing the exact same dress when she was making tea for me. How I didn't put two and two together that moment to figure out the puzzle was a mystery I didn't want to waste time thinking about now.

"You do realize you could have easily used the front door." Still lost in her book, she nodded toward a corner where I could see a door, standing there and practically mocking me.

Flushed as I thought about the not-so grateful and simple way I got inside her home and getting angry with the fact she was barely paying any attention to me, I acted with every bit of dignity I had left in me as I walked over to her and waited till she tore her eyes away from that book, lifting her chin up so her eyes would lock at me. Her eyes seemed a bit confused when they saw the anger blazing in my eyes, but she didn't question it.

"Is it true?" I asked her in a low voice, loud with screaming rage and sadness.

"Is it what true?" She sighed, marking the page she was at in her book before closing up and sounding completely bored. It was as if paying attention to me was taking so much out from her, making my anger heighten.

At that point, everything exploded inside of me. I wasn't sure what it was that ticked off my anger and caused it to explode. The fact that everything I seemed to believe in was nothing but a lie and a game she has been playing for only who knows how long, with a number of who knows how many other men. Or fact she was completely bored with me now. It could have been one of them, maybe it was both. Whatever it was, all I knew was my anger exploded and I let out all the raw, uncontrollable rage through anger-screamed words as I told her everything I found about her.

Flora was quiet, giving me her full attention as she listened to me go on and on, completely unfazed like she somehow was aware I already knew of her little secret(s). When I was finally done and trying to cool myself down, taking in a few deep breaths, she arched her eyebrow at and said nothing for the longest time. Finally and slowly she nodded her head, directing her eyes to the fire. "I see."

I see? That was all she had to say to me, as if I was just ranting about something unimportant like the weather that didn't require much care.

The look on her face was something I'd never forget. Gone was all the warmth and gentleness on her face, the soft laughter and smile in her eyes were long dead along with the twinkle that vanished instantly. She resembled nothing like my Flora, who was so warm and gentle. Instead she was a complete stranger, someone I didn't even recognize.

"What else is there to be said?" She asked. "You already know pretty much everything needed to be known, so there's no need for me to say anything else. Besides you already let everything be said in your little rage rants?"

"_Little rage rants!_" I exclaimed, screaming right at her face even though she was in front of me. I usually was one to always have my anger under control, never letting it control me, but when something was pushing my anger higher and higher it was usually too hard for me to hold it anymore. "I just find out you, the girl I loved and cared about more than…_ANYTHING_ was playing with me like a fool! You can't possibly expect me to act as if everything is okay and alright with the world."

"Look," She finally turned back to me, slowly getting up from the chair but not coming closer to me. "I know you're upset, but I was going to tell you the truth!"

I snorted, finding those words more lies sprouting from her mouth. "Sure you were, since everything you've been telling me has been nothing but the honest truth."

Her lips were drawn into a thin line as she chose to ignore the venomous tone dripping in my sarcasm voice, but I could tell she was annoyed but it by the slight blaze of anger in her eyes. "Look, I understand you're upset, but you couldn't possibly believe that I would tell you everything. Besides, I wasn't lying. I only left things out."

"Try everything!" I snapped, getting closer to her face and was unaware I was causing her own anger to heightened. "Leaving things out is just as bad as lying, but somehow even worse because you're deliberately leaving out things needed to be known. Everything you told me was nothing but a charade to your sick game, acting like you cared for me, kissing me like you cared for me, and tricked me into loving you."

Flora thrust her chin as she absorbed the comment, crossing her arms against her chest as she narrowed her eyes at me into ice-cold, deadly slits. "I will admit I have done similar things to men in the past, but with you it was different. For starters, I didn't put a love spell over you, Helia. There was no need to. Those feelings you felt and still feel for me, those feelings of deep care and love, were created by you and only you."

"_Liar!_" I snapped, scowling. "You lie about that like you lied about everything else. About how much I meant to you, the people whom disappeared on you but you really disappeared from them and the so-called family that dead in the fire. For all I know you probably started the fire yourself because they couldn't stand having someone as disgraceful as you in their family."

Those words I hadn't meant to say just spilled out from me, already out in the open for her to hear and was too late for me to take back what I had said. Unfortunately, it wasn't till I said them did I realize how harsh they were.

Flora flinched, as if I slapped her right across the face, and took a step back, her balled-up hand pressed against her chest while a look of shock crossed her face as she stared at me. The shock was so much, her eyes were widened and her mouth was dropped wide open, unable to speak. Along with that shock came sadness, sadness which I could tell was genuine and causing moisture in her eyes threatening to turn into tears and slide down her face.

"_You son of a bitch_!" Searing, painful stars danced across my vision as she smacked me across the face, putting all her force into that hard slap, whipping my head to the other side and knocking me hard to the ground. "How dare you say such a thing to me?"

The pain from that hard slap was throbbing in my left cheek, and I could feel blood rising at the spot where she hit me. Holding it tenderly, I got up from the floor and stared at her with cold, hate-filled eyes. "Better to be a son of bitch than a slutty whore!"

She winded her hand back, ready to strike me again, but I quickly grasped her wrist before her hand could make contact with my face. I tightened the grip extremely when she was trying to escape, ignoring the sounds of her wincing.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" she exclaimed, hitting me with her free hand.

"Give me one good reason why I should, you filthy whore!" I yelled back.

Back and forth was where we went, throwing insults at one another and yelling loudly at each other's faces, letting our anger and hatred inside of us. It started out as that, but then suddenly, while we were screaming and getting close to each other, the anger continued in a brutal kiss she crushed onto my lips, assaulting me with those weapons I knew were deadly but I was addicted to.

The kisses were desperate and hotter than ever, intensified with the raw anger we wanted to let out through desire and passion. I kissed her hard with as much as anger, passion, and roughness I could muster, swallowing her wincing and groans in my mouth, mentally smirking from the sound of her gasp as I let her bottom lip to grand entrance to her sweetly addicting mouth and continued the brutality through our tongues.

The brutality continued as we moved onto the bed, falling onto it together with her on the bottom and me on top of her.

"You're such a bastard!" she whispered when she was able to pull away for a brief moment to gulp in some air.

I lunged forward without hesitance about it and captured her lips in a passionate kiss that instantly robbed us of our breaths. My hands tangled in her hair as I held her head in place to kiss her more thoroughly, trying to let all my emotions building inside me and also her how I felt for her, a feeling I couldn't escape from no matter how hard I tried.

The kiss started out passionately and only grew in ferocity. We clung to each other desperately, never wanting to break the contact. When the need to breathe took over, my lips didn't pause but kept kissing all over her face, the corners of her lips, her cheeks, along her jaw, down her throat and back up again. I knew I was acting like a fool right now, giving her what she wanted and playing part of her game, but kissing her and getting a taste of her delicious skin that made me drunk I couldn't have cared less at the mouth.

Underneath me, she whimpered dedicatedly and tangled her fingers in my hair as my lips went down lower and lower down her chest, kissing the swells of her breasts and feeling them hardening underneath the fabric of her dress.

We wrestled in the bed, our tongues wrestling for domination and our bodies wrestling for the same task as well. As we rolled around and quickly stripped one another of our clothes, with the kisses filled with raw rough-passion and hot desire, and let out everything in something I never dreamt of doing but was somehow more amazing than I could ever dreamt it could be.

The love-making was rough and brutal, both of us wanting to torment the other and using our best choice of weapons. She was so beautiful, her skin tasted so delicious I kissed her every where. Every inch of her delicate, beautiful body my lips were pressed against, making the moans escaping from her mouth become louder and more filled with need. I pressed my lips against her in another hotly-delivered passionate kiss, and then kissed her everywhere, until I entered her and filled exploded. At the moment, she let out a loud, ear-piercing scream echoing throughout the small room, but it was a scream of pleasurable joy.

It was the most…indescribable moment of our lives. I wasn't too sure about her, but I never wanted to have it any other way than that.

Outside the worst blizzard ever to hit Ivy Gomes was hitting the place harder than ever, outshining all the other snowstorms we thought were horrible and coming back with force. But inside, the atmosphere in the tiny room was hot and heated, as if we were in the intensely hot August or in the center of fire. We were naked underneath the silk blankets and tangled in each other, our clothes scattered all over the floor, and panting hard while sweat was sheen on our bodies.

Flora was glancing up at the ceiling, panting hard underneath her breath, with an expression I couldn't read. Her neck and bodies were marked with my hickeys, her lips swiped clean of her lipstick and swollen red from all our kisses, and her hair entangled and messed up, but somehow she still was as radiant as a goddess and was the most beautiful thing I ever seen. When her eyes returned to me, she tenderly brushed her fingers against my lips and murmured "You're trembling."

I didn't even realize I was till she mentioned it. I was trembling from the excitement that just happened, the adrenaline still kicking high inside my body that was burning up from fire. I smiled assuring at her and murmured, "Don't worry. I'll be alright."

We kissed again, gently and also passionately, and then I slowly laid my head on her chest and was soothed by the touch of her soft fingers stroking my hair and the sound of her beautiful song putting me to sleep.

"I love you, Helia." She whispered the last thing I heard before I was lost in unconsciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

Dawn seem to break out earlier than I expected. The sunlight somehow was able to leak inside, hitting my eyes, warning me it was time to get up. I groaned and mumbled curses under my breath, not wanting to wake up in fear I was be awaken from a marvelous dream, but finally I surrendered to the sunlight and slowly opened my eyes.

The reason I was so hesitant was what happened…the hot love that was made seemed so far-fetched, so unreal I half-heartedly believed it was nothing more than a dream and I was back home, in my bed sleeping. But then, it took me awhile to realize, instead of my head resting on a soft pillow, it was resting on soft, bare skin. Lifting my head up a bit to look around, I saw the fire was still going, our clothes were scattered all over the floor, the after-effect of sex was still going on strong and the sweat that was dripping on our bodies cooled down, and she was awake, too, looking up at the ceiling while her fingers were still stroking my hair.

It really wasn't a dream.

"Morning." She murmured, her eyes dazed and still looking up at the ceiling.

"Morning," I replied. "So…did what happened really happened?"

She shrugged, still refusing to look down at me. "Depends on what you mean. If you mean did you come to my house after finding out my little secret, then yes that happened. If you mean did we get angry with each other and yelled, then yes we did. And, in the end, did we end up making love out of anger and desire, then yes we did."

I gulped in anxious as those memories were rushing back to my head, wrapping her arms more tightly around her.

"In case you're wondering, you were my first," Shocked, I lifted my head up to look at her, and she continued. "The farthest I ever gone with any of others was strictly kissing. Nothing more, nothing less. That's the honest truth."

I was infuriated by the though they were others before me were also granted access to her sweet mouth, but the anger slowly cooled off by the fact they weren't given access to her body, weren't the first ones to give her pleasure, and that made me feel a bit better. But it still wasn't enough to make up for the fact she held back important information she knew I would want to know.

"You said you were going to tell me the truth," I murmured. "Were you honestly going to?"

"Yes I was." She answered without hesitancy, true sincerity in her voice.

I was about to ask her another question, questioning why she didn't tell me sooner but then suddenly I remembered the last words she whispered to me so softly before I fell asleep. She murmured she loved me. At first I was so sure I was just hearing things until I realized she actually said those three little yet powerful words I've been praying to hear from her voice since the moment I met her. "You said you loved me."

For a brief moment she was caught off guard as shock and recognition was written on her face, but as quick as it appeared it was also gone in an instant, her face hardening into stone. Without saying a word, she pushed me off het gently, grabbed her dress and underwear but left her bra alone, and changed into her clothes in front of the fire with her back turned to me.

It was obvious she didn't want to talk about it either because she was still mad at me for all the horrible things I said to in anger last night or maybe she wanted to forget about it herself. Either way, she still refused to talk to me and focused her attention on brushing her hair in front of her small mirror, not acknowledging my presence. But just because she wasn't in the mood to talk about it, it didn't mean I wasn't.

"Flora," I said. "Were you telling me the truth when you said you loved me? Did you really mean it?"

After wasting a good five minutes brushing the left side of her hair, she fluffed it up a bit before moving onto the right side. Ignoring my hot gaze was burning holes into the back of her head.

"I'm just going to keep staring at you until you tell me," I said, still getting no response or reaction. "Really hard."

She sighed, finally (and thankfully) giving up, placed her brush on a nearby table, and whirled around to face me with her arms folded against her chest. "First you get dress, then we go on walk, and I'll tell you everything."

It didn't seem like an appealing offer, but since it was the only way for her to tell me the truth I gave in. I quickly dressed in my clothes, and followed her out the door, her leading me through the bitter cold to the deep area of the forest. The same place where we first met.

"Do you remember my reaction when you first told me you loved me?" she asked as she walked over to a weeping willow, which she told me was one of her favorite trees, and placed her hand on it and slowly stroked the bark.

I nodded. Boy did I ever. I could never forget how she jumped away from me like she was shocked, stunned into silence for a moment and was saying how I couldn't have been in love with her. It didn't make any sense to me then as it did now. "You were shocked. You seemed scared."

Sighing sadly, she tore her eyes away from the tree and turned to me. "Scared yes, and shocked most definitely."

"But why?" I questioned, my confusion deepening, and then bitterly I added "You obviously had other men who were head over heels for you, and doubtless said the same thing to you."

Of course I expected her to nod and then tell me about all the suitors before me, how they were and what they did to prove their love to her. But she surprised me into a stunned silence when she slowly shook her head back and forth, whispering "No, they haven't. No even one."

"What?" That made little sense to me. She was the infamous Spirit woman who always made men desire her with all their hearts and beings, able to make them fall hard for her with one smile or look upon her face. It would only make sense she has been told over dozens of time she was loved by someone else, or people. "But-Grandfather told me you made their hearts bleed for you-"

"Out of lust, not love," she interrupted, correcting me. "Lust and desire is all they felt for me, Helia, and it's not the same as love. They may have desired me, but only out of lustful affection. They said they desired me, wanted me, needed me, but never loved. Not a single man ever said that to me."

"Not even Damon?"

"Not even Damon," she confirmed. "Your Grandfather thought I was some kind of vampire who jumped Damon and sucked the life out him, but he never understood the true story."

"Which was…?" I asked.

She locked her emerald eyes right on me, gazing deeply into my eyes but looking at me with daze, almost if though she was back in time and Damon was the one standing in her place. "There was a horrible storm, and they were collecting wood together until they got separated. Like you, Damon wanted to collect as much wood to help survive the winter, but soon he fell down a high hill and hit his head. When I heard him scream, I came out to help him. And…I guess you could say it was love at first sight, at lease for me."

So she fell in love with my granduncle? It was clear the others didn't mean that much to her, but from her body language and the sadness growing in those daze eyes Damon was a whole other story.

"But…?" I interpreted. "Usually in tales like these, there's always a but attached near the end."

She smiled at me a small smile, but it was a smile without humor and dry like bone, and the cause of the awful sadness growing in her eyes. "Indeed but," she said. "Although I felt something strong for him and he seemed different in the end, he wasn't."

"How so?" I asked.

"Even though he treated me like a princess, unlike the others, he still felt nothing but desired lust for me. The same lust as the other forty-eight before him," I winched at the number of that many men from her past, and she shot me an apologetic look as she continued. "I could tell it was going to end the same way as before. So I left."

"But he searched for you," I told her. "He wanted to see you again and look for you."

"True, but it still wasn't right."

She told me even though she left him; those strong feelings never went away and deepened over the years. Until I came into the picture, and she found herself falling in love again. "With you." She said.

"Why? Because I look like Damon," A part of me still couldn't let go the reason why she cared so much about me only because of my resemblance to Damon, the first men she ever loved but was never returned the same feelings for her.

"No!" she sighed, shaking her head and then lowering her eyes, avoiding eye contact. "Because you were always so sweet and a complete gentleman. You always had laughing at the silliest things and made wish the time I spent with you could last forever. And when you told me you loved me, despite the fact I was shocked, I believed you immediately."

For a moment I couldn't say anything, mostly because I was in a stun silence and didn't know what to say. All this time I thought I was the only one falling in this relationship when she was also falling, too. And I could tell she was speaking the truth by the way she spoke without hesitation and true sincerity heard in her tone.

"You're a spirit, right?" I asked her.

She nodded. "When I told you a fire broke out in my home, I was lying to you then."

"About what?" I asked.

"About what really happened and the whole story." Taking in a deep breath and looking down at her hands, which were held together in front of her, she explained. "In December 12, 1832, which was the worst snowstorm ever, at a small cottage in the outskirts of a small town twelve miles north from Ivy Gomes, a horrible fire broke out. Apparently someone foolishly left a candle-lit lantern in the middle of the night when everyone was sleeping; the lantern knocked down to the ground, and sparked a fire that burned down the entire house."

As I listened to her go on, I swallowed down a lump wedged in my throat. I could already tell I really didn't like where this was going.

"Miraculously, mostly everyone was able to make it out alive in the fire. All expect for on. A young seventeen year old girl, the middle child of the family, who couldn't bear the smell of the thick smoke any longer and perished in the flames."

Looking at the girl in front of me and quickly put the pieces together, my eyes widened in shock.

Flora was the one who died in that fire, and, given the age she was when she died and the date when that horrible fire took her life, it meant she has been walking among the earth with the living for over a century.

"Why still stay here with the living when you're already dead?" I asked.

"I honestly don't know," she confessed. "When I died, they said it would take awhile for me to move on. Many years have passed, and yet here I still am, waiting. But I have a feeling it's not going to be long."

"What do you mean by that?"

She looked at me for a full minute, and then turned her eyes away, deliberately choosing not to answer.

"Okay then," Since she wasn't going to answer that one, I decided to ask her a question that seemed less difficult to answer. "How is it I'm able to see you and touch you? You're a spirit. I'm not even supposed to be kissing you, much less see and hear you."

"Well, I was a nature fairy when I was alive and a fairy in death. Over the years I was able to perfect my magic, and learn a few skills on communicating with the living. Whenever I focus my concentration hard enough and us all the energy in my body, I'm able to solid my body. But in order for me to have that solid body, I need to always focus my concentration. If I break that concentration, then…" Her voice trailed off she held her left hand in front of her and stared at it for the longest time before she was reaching out for me.

But when her hand reached for mine, it completely went right through it. As shocking as that was, nothing was more shocking or terrifying than the touch of bitter, unbelievable frost-bite clawing inside me. Chilling down my veins and running my blood cold, numbing my body completely from the inside out in less than three seconds.

I was in such relief as her hand was slowly pulled out from me, feeling the circulation of my body slowing moving again and body warmth gradually making its' way in.

"If a spirit remains in spirit form, they can choose to be seen and heard by a human," she told me. "Only problem is the person will feel a terrible frost-bite chilling their bodies."

Sheepishly I nodded in agreement after my unforgettable experience with that.

"Anymore questions you have for me?" she asked.

"Just one." I took step forward to her, slowly lifting up her chin, and caressed her cheek while looking at her right in the eyes. "When you told me you loved me, did you honestly mean it?"

Taking one tiny, baby step forward to me, closing the distance between us, and holding my hands in hers, she looked me right in the eyes and said without hesitance or blinking, "Yes, I did. I love you, Helia. I love you with all my heart and being. I love you so much."

I titled my head back and moaned a bit, feeling such pleasure and warmth from hearing those words. I then stepped forward, pulled her into me, and enveloped her petite frame in my arms, holding her tightly and never wanting this moment to end. As I laid my head on her head and she nuzzled against my shoulders, tears of joy were leaking from my eyes and oozing down my cheeks in streams from the utter disbelief and joy I was feeling from hearing those magical words she told me.

I could also tell I wasn't the only one crying, Feeling moisture wetting my jacket, I could tell Flora was also crying for the same reason I was, which made me ten times happier than before. I pecked her cheek and her ear, whispering "I love you, Flora. So much."

She gripped my shoulders, burying her face in my chest and crying harder, much harder than I was. "I love you, Helia. More than anything else in the world, I love you so much," She surprised when she slowly pulled herself away from just a bit, deeply gazed into my eyes without saying a word for what felt like a slow century, and slowly took steps away from me. "Which is why I have to leave you."

At first I was sure I was hearing things, and then decided she was only playing around with me and I chuckled a bit, though it was forced. But when I saw the expression of utter seriousness on her face, the firmness in her eyes that hardened everything else, it took me a while to realize she really wasn't kidding. "What?"

"I'm leaving, Helia." She said.

"What? Why?" I demanded.

"Two reasons," she answered. "First because I could already feel my soul losing ties to this world, which means I'm moving on. Second, I love you too much to be anymore of a bother to you. And it is because of that reason I refuse to stay here."

"A bother?" My insides were already numbing again, but not from the cold. It was getting numb from her words. "If it's because of all those awful things I said to you, then I take them back. I was angry, I was idiot-"

"Helia," she cut off. "It's not about that. That doesn't even matter because I know you didn't mean them. This is about me doing something for someone I love and care about."

"How can this possibly be for someone you care about when you causing you pain? And me?" Her arms were wrapped around her body as she cried hard, the endless tears spilling from her eyes and dripping like heavy rain down her face. But she wasn't the only one crying. I was trying to hold in the tears, but I failed miserably as I felt them rolling down my cheeks. "Don't you want to be with me?"

"Of course I want to be with you!" She seemed shocked by my question, as if such an idea was unthinkable. "But we can't. I'm a spirit, you're human. Its forbidden, and we can never be together."

"Can't you wait for me?" I asked.

She smiled that same small smile she gave me earlier, much sadder than the last time and weak. "I wish, but you deserve someone else. Someone who is just much better than some slutty whore who has been playing love games for so long, it took such a long time for her to realize love was actually real when the right person came along."

It was one thing to hear me say those cruel words, but it was quite another to hear them coming her own mouth. Hearing her said them was heart-breaking, making me feel so horrible for saying them in the first place.

"But I love you." I closed the small distance and cupped her tear-streak, wet face in my hands, wiping (and sometimes kissing) away the tears.

"And I love you, too," she whispered. "So much, so much and more than anything else. But I also love you too much to be selfish with you. I care about you so much; I'm willing to let you go. I have to."

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell her if having my soul would keep her here then it was hers to take, but then I closed it again when no words would come out. It was clear nothing I said was going to change her mind since her mind was always made up. No matter how much I wanted her to be with her, I realized that would be selfish because she deserved to move on and I couldn't take that opportunity away from her.

"If that's what you want." I told her; trying to keep a straight face on despite the fact I felt so much agony inside.

She shook her head. "It isn't what I want, but it's for the best. But can you do a small favor for me?"

"Anything." I vowed.

"Promise me, you will never, ever do anything stupid and please keep yourself safe."

Nodding my head, I made a vow to myself to live up to that promise. "Can I ask you for something in return?"

"What?" she asked.

She shivered by my touch as I caressed her cheek, and then lowered my hand down to her neck, slowly caressing it. "Kiss me."

She didn't even needed for me to ask the question twice; before the full sentence could come from my mouth, her lips were already pressed against mine and I kissed her back. We've kissed over dozens of times before, but always did I felt that current of fire running between us, connecting us into a deeper bond, and we were wrapped in a safe cocoon of sparks dancing around us, protecting us and making everything else fade away expect for the moment we were sharing and the feeling of our lips pressed together.

Everything intensified as I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer to me, and she encircled her arms around my neck. Our kisses were passionate, ravish with hot desperation and desire, and we mustered everything we felt for each other, including our love, into those kisses.

Finally she detached our lips, but I quickly stole one last kiss before she pulled away. "Goodbye Helia."

She was gone.

And that was the last time I ever seen her again.

Seventy years have passed since then, and I was now an old man being taken care of by my grandson and his two young children. In some ways much has changed in Ivy Gomes since then, and some hasn't.

Eventually Arthur has forgiven me for all the times I lied to him, even though I could always sense he felt the love she and I shared was fake. He was now married and lived in a small house in the town, while I still lived in our family's cottage in the forest, with his wife of fifty-eight years, Megan, their three children, and their twelve grandchildren. And like my brother, Timmy was also living in a small house in the town with his wife, who was Tecna of course, with their children and their grandchildren.

When she left, there was a lot of first. It felt life has lost meaning of itself, and I couldn't go on. There was a burning hole in my chest, as if someone stick a searing hot poker through my heart, aching her more than anything and the pain was often time too much for me to move on. But despite all the heartbreak and pain that came along with it, I would never trade it for anything because it was part of my memory of her.

The infamous La Belle Dame Sans Merci. The woman from my grandfather stories, and the only woman I ever have and will always be in love with.

My name is Helia Gabriel. To my best friend, I am dreamer who needs to get my head out from the clouds. To my brother, I was an idiot for going out in those words in the first place. But to me, and also to her, I was the victim who fell in love with her, the infamous heart-breaker and heart-desire, but in the end I was let go gently and allowed to live out my life.


End file.
